I hate getting books for Christmas in general because I’m such a mood reader, and I’ve plastered a fake smile on my face many a time and repeated internally ‘Its the thought that counts.’ as I unwrap a book I will not read.
But the worst one by far, given to me by my own Mother , who I know loves me, when I was fourteen years old! was >!Men are from Mars Women are from Venus.!< I am sitting there horrified thinking what is she trying to tell me? As my sisters are flat on the floor laughing to the point of puking. We eventually came to the conclusion she just saw an attractive cover on a bestseller table and grabbed it. Love to know your terrible gift stories.
For a certain generation of girls born between 1975-1985, V.C. Andrews was a tween-age rite of passage.
It started much, much earlier than that. Flowers was published in 1979. I remember all of us girls freaking out in 9th grade Spanish class one day (1984) because the class clown was casually giving out spoilers to Seeds of Yesterday. (IYKYK)