This picture says it all. We need to talk about this. I need to talk about this. This is the gift. The gift. I will have scars from my experience. Mental scars. Physiological scars. PTSD.
Hubby has been in charge, with the teenager, for my gift(s) when it comes to my birthdays and/or Christmas for years. Love love love Hubby and teenager to death!!
Personally I’d like these commercialized, stressful, competitive days to not even exist in my life. I honestly and truly would be a better person without these overly ambitious days of the year hanging over my head year after year. This time of year ‘how to get out of debt from the holidays’ is everywhere. TV and radio talk shows, news papers (apps) and I’ve even seen big billboards off the highway about credit counselling with Christmas gifts and a Christmas theme on the billboard. Anyways, I won’t rant on and on about the holidays. Not today anyways. Previous years my gifts have consisted of frying pans, a cutlery set, spatula and tong set and this wonderful list from Canadian Tire unfortunately gets longer. If Canadian Tire has a frying pan chances are I have it too. I have always tried to remember, it’s the thought that counts, it doesn’t matter to me, at least they’re thinking of me and all the other politically correct thoughts I should be having.
A few years ago when I got a frying pan for the 8th year in a row, I blew a gasket. Hubby sucks at gifting. Absolutely sucks the big kahunas. He now has passed this level of sucks onto my son. He’s ruined the kid. I will be apologizing to my sons’ future partner forever and a day for the gifts that are to come. Maybe I’ll even give her heads up on the first home visit. Wouldn’t that be nice of me? I’ll open the frying pan drawerS. Yes, plural. Frying pan drawers. Think I was kidding about frying pans year after year? You see this sweet little girlfriend? This is your future. See this cutlery drawer spilling over with cutlery? This is what awaits you if you choose him. Then I will show her a picture of the beast. Yes, the beast y’all get to see atop of this blog. If she stays after all that, she’s a keeper for sure!! (Shut up, I know y’all isn’t in the dictionary. Is kahunas?)
After my explosion, I regained control and sat both Hubby and teenager down. I tried to explain how a frying pan is not and never should be a gift I open Xmas morning or for my birthday. I further explained that cutlery was a kitchen utensil, one that can and will inflict pain should they not improve their efforts. The teenager was so upset cause he thought he was doing an awesome thing. In my head I am again thanking hubby for passing on his astounding inability to gift, onto my son! As a mother I wanted help my son understand, I wanted to give a parallel gift. (I actually wanted to divorce both) Give him an idea of what it feels like to be me October 16th or December 25th. I told the teenager to hang on as my parallel gift came to me. I went upstairs and got a package of toothbrushes and a new tube of toothpaste and wrapped it (quickly, not pretty). I gave him his wrapped mess, explaining its his only gift for his birthday or Christmas, whichever one he wanted. He opened it and just looked at me. I said it gets better my son, you get to share it with everyone like the cutlery and friggin frying pan. After that display of mental and emotional instability, they both vowed to do better. Likely out of fear at this point.
Don’t worry, I didn’t send them to swim with the Sharks. I gave them suggestions if they WANTED to get me anything; Amazon gift card, FabricLand gift card, Starbucks gift card, a pottery store gift certificate etc. Never ever ever EVER are they allowed to buy me any kind of jewellery. Ever. You see the beast. You understand.
Since this talk we have gifted the food bank and other charities instead of ourselves but they still get me a little gift at Christmas. Super sweet right? Right. This year they clearly out did themselves.
They both were so excited for me to open this huge wrapped package. It gets handed to me with such anticipation, Hubby beside me and the teenager standing in front of me. I’m worried. I saw what they got Nonna. I’m not sure if they could see how mortified I was as I slowly unveiled this…thing, but I’m assuming I covered it up quick enough because the teenager high fived his dad and said we did it!! It’s…It’s some big plastic cheaply made nightmarish wreath. It’s absolutely horrific. Hideous. One of the ugliest things I’ve ever seen. It’s an absolute tragedy. Relax everyone, of course I didn’t and haven’t told them that.
Immediately my brain is dashing from corner to corner (yes my brain has corners). I couldn’t even tell you what they said or did after that, I was in panic mode. How do I get out of this? Where do I put this beauty? Can I destroy it with scissors or an axe and blame the dogs? Nah, they’d never believe that …. The dogs don’t eat anything in the house. Drive over it? The bastard would probably survive a nuclear war. Panic. Panic. My son manages to break my thought process and asks where to put it. I said put in my room until I figure out where to put it. Out of sight, but definitely not out of my mind.
After breakfast, I sit on the side of my bed and found the nerve to stare this majestic beast down. THANKFULLY, I noticed that it is damaged. Phew! I’ve been rescued from this very awkward and uncomfortable situation! It can go back and no matter what I’m told there is none in stock. None. I will cover my ears and not listen and sing a song if the store says it is in stock. So I tell hubby it is damaged and needs to go back. I obviously do this magically as no one is onto me. He gives me the receipt. What??????? $74.95 for this thing!!! Omg!! What? Why? How did this ever happen? You’re all likely thinking I’m making a bigger deal of this than necessary. You don’t understand. It can not stay. It must go.
I head to town to return it to the flower shop. Shame on the flower shop for even having this item. I can never trust her to make me a bouquet of flowers again. I need to make a quick stop at the dollar store first around the corner. Well, well well. What do we have here. For only $2.25 there is my lovely snow dusted horrible plastic wreath (minus the glitter beast on the wreath) Anyways .. Off I go to the flower shop. I show the owner the glitter (that’s right .. They bought me something lathered in glitter. Lathered in big flaky silver glitter) that is missing on the top portion of the beast and I’d like to return it. I couldn’t of been more firm, stern and to the point. You are taking this thing back or I’m taking you down. She actually tried to tell me it’s suppose to look that way. So dangerous some people are. $74.95 and it’s suppose to look damage. Got it. What’s next? $5 for perfection? I don’t think so lady. I tilted my head and said very sarcastic and in a double daring voice “do we really want to have this conversation?” She gave me an in store credit promptly. I’ll take anything but that wreath back. I’d even take nothing, but she didn’t need to know that.
Some of you may be thinking, what if hubby or teenager reads this blog. Ha! Never. Reading is a form of torture for them. Reading is punishment. Them reading my blog is the furthest concern for me. Won’t happen. Besides they’d have to find out I have one first.
Now I’m left with … Do I tell them to never buy me anything again? Or anything over $20 they should ask me cause it’s a lot of money. Eighty dollars for this cheap piece of garbage. Eighty. She totally saw those two coming a mile away! One of a kind no doubt. Now you can understand why they are forbidden from any jewelry purchases for me. Ever. Lifetime ban.