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.
It was Hanukkah. My cousin and I were the same age, we often fought, so we were always given the same gifts each year. One year, my mom got my cousin the new Kirby game for Gameboy. She said she got me something different from my cousin this time, and it was a little bit crazy.
I was pumped, because obviously this meant I was finally getting a pet chameleon.
It was a dictionary. A big, blue fucking Costco dictionary. My disappointment was immeasurable and my Hanukkah was ruined.
Please tell me you were given an explanation later in life. Those two things are so vastly different that there must be one.
No explanation, my mom is just kind of crazy and doesn’t understand a lot of things. 🤷 Like, she was a nurse working with doctors who actually knew how to push their children to academic excellence and she often tried to keep up with the Joneses without understanding how it actually worked. Hence buying a dictionary for her child so she could probably go brag to her work friends about doing that.