My mother has told my sister and I the same story every year for as long as I can remember, and it's taught me not to complain about gifts too much.
When my mom was around six, she had wanted a Barbie Pop up Van set. My grandmother, being the kind old soul she was, went out and got the box for said item, and filled it with underwear. She gave the box-o-underwear to my mother for Christmas, and proceeded to laugh her ass off as my mom went to her room crying. She never got that van.
This was an odd story, as my grandmother was a great person.
To get her back, after 30 odd years, my mom and I bought a cheap wine glass, and put a metal ball bearing in it. My grandmother had the bad habit of shaking her presents. When she shook the box with the glass and ball bearing, the glass shattered. She tried to act as if nothing happened, but was completely terrified that she'd ruined something. It was hilarious.
One time my mom gave me some band aids with medieval-looking paintings of Jesus on it . That was kind of weird.
A few years ago I received this...
My Aunt and Uncle once gave me Tim Allen's "Home Improvement": The Board Game. To make matters worse they also gave another copy of the game to my brother. For some reason they figured our household needed two copies.
When I was about 3, my grandparents bought me a pony saddle for Christmas and told me that the pony comes in a couple months.
The pony never came. The saddle still sits in their barn.
I got an American flag. That was all I got.
The Remains of Bidet (James Ivory, 1993)
We might find we have more in common than we think if we just stop fighting long enough to combine our bodies into a singular organism.
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