Happy Friday, Dear Readers!
Yes, I’ve resurrected Fun Friday. This week, I want to know about the worst gift you ever received. You don’t have to name names, and let’s face it–the person who got you that horrible thing is not reading this blog! (I’m not that popular, so your secret will be relatively safe with me.)
It’s the thought that counts, of course, but what if that thought was seriously wrong? I’ve gotten some disappointing gifts over the years-everything from ugly hand knitted slippers that didn’t fit from my well-intentioned grandmother to a coffee maker with a selection of coffees from a friend who knew I don’t drink coffee. Her explanation? “Well, you might have someone come over who wants coffee.” Um, thanks. The worst gift I received as a child was a lace dickey. I didn’t even know what it was, until my mother explained that you wore them with plain sweaters to make them look fancier. Did I ever tell you I was a tomboy? A lace dickey I did not need.
But one guy I dated took the proverbial cake. Almost every gift he gave me was so hideous or misguided that I was afraid to open it. He seriously challenged my acting abilities. For our first Christmas, I received a rusted elephant sculpture. This lovely hunk of rusted metal (with orange flakes falling off it periodically) was supposed to stand by itself, and was the size of a small dog. It resembled a shapeless blob more than anything, and it kept falling over, scaring my cat and gouging the hardwood floors. Lovely.
The following year, it was a vase in a wire pedestal that was lovingly designed to incorporate all of the world’s ugliest colors: puke yellow, booger green, and our old favorite–rust. What was with this guy’s obsession with rust? Again, the finish flaked off when you touched it, and the pedestal’s legs were crooked. I threw an ivy plant in it, and that actually made it look okay, until it rotted out and fell apart. Problem solved!
Deciding he’d done enough to decorate my living room, he turned his attention to my bathroom. I love baths, so for some reason he though I must need a new bathroom set. (I don’t know about guys, but I’m sure most of the women who read this like to pick their own colors, and probably already have their home the way they like it. This guy didn’t know that.) So, to replace my lovely teal-and-aqua bathroom accessories, he bought me a plastic jungle-themed shower curtain, a set of forest green towels, and every gadget you could possibly imagine for softening one’s feet.
“I hope you don’t think that I think there’s anything wrong with your feet,” he said. “I just thought these would be nice to have.”
Translation: he went to the Bay’s bathroom department and bought everything they have. And I do mean everything! I’m surprised he didn’t get me one of those scary razor-type things that remove calluses.
Thankfully, The Boy is a much better gift-giver!
What’s the worst present you ever received?