Am sorry internets. Had a busy weekend with Mother's Day festivities. Then Monday came and I was under a hundred deadlines. And yesterday I thought about blogging, but I decided to have wine instead and totally forgot what a blog even was.
Today, I've been wracking my brain all day trying to think of how to make it up to you. I have a new shopping post that I'm almost ready to post and I want to do some linkies for some of my favorite new people, but GAWD, am lazy.
Instead, I'll tell you about some of the Worst Presents of All Time that I've Received ®.
When I was six, my auntie sent me a folding Holly Hobbie table and chairs for my birthday. The day that I opened it, I sat down in the chair and it pinched the back of my leg so badly I started bleeding and had to go to the ER. My aunt tried to sue the company, but as far as I know, I didn't get any money out of it. Although, she did move to a nicer condo in Florida after that. Hmmmm.
On my 17th birthday, my mom took me to a fancy-pants (read: A step-up from Super Cuts) for a perm. Six weeks later, I was still wearing my hair in a tight pony tail because my hair looked like ASS. A big, fuzzy llama's ass. Never has a curler touched my head again.
For my wedding shower, which was held in Canada because I'd already moved up here, my mother-in-law decided that instead of asking the guests to buy me something useful, like a fucking can opener, she'd ask everyone to chip-in $15 each so I could buy sheets. (She said she was too embarrassed to ask for $20 per person. What were we? The fucking Walton's?) For a bed I didn't even own yet. When the soon-to-be-husband and I didn't even have a dish and two forks between us. I have all sorts of gay pictures of a floral sheet set in a laundry basket sitting beside me and me and my best friend trying not to cry.
I'll have you know, those sheets weren't even high thread count. They were Percale, y'all.
The first Christmas I was married, my husband bought me a $400 cappuccino maker. Which is great if either he or I drank coffee. I used it once. TO THIS DAY, he brings up the fact that he bought that stupid thing, to which I say, "YOU SHOULD HAVE BOUGHT ME A VIBRATOR. THAT I WOULD HAVE USED."
Over the years, my m-i-l has been the bearer of some of the worst gifts. (As an aside, the 1st Christmas that my b-i-l and s-i-l were married she bought the s-i-l a neon green kimono. A fucking quilted kimono. No guff. It was hideous. And my poor s-i-l said thanks. I would have said, "Are you freaking insane?")
About five years ago, she bought a remote car starter for us for Christmas. Although it was a great idea (warm up the car before venturing out into freezing temps!) sadly our car alarm wouldn't function with it. She offered to take it back for us. AND. KEPT. THE. MONEY.
Two years ago, my mother-in-law bought me a Shark AND a Magic Bullet. (Sadly the Magic Bullet is not a vibrator, it's an effin' blender.) When she asked if I was going to keep them (uhm, NO, I prefer products that aren't hawked on TV.) She then said she'd return them for me and later I found out she sold them to a co-worker. MAH GIFTS. SOLD. FOR PROFIT.
That being said, the husband hasn't gotten off scot-free over the years. There was the Christmas a few years ago where he bought me a vacuum. Mind you it, it's a smoking hot $700 vacuum, but it's still A VACUUM.
He has redeemed himself as of late, though. He got me the Canon Rebel Pro (still have no clue what to do with it, but it is pretty!) and most recently my preshus MacBook Air for my birthday.
Oh, and this year? Besides a casserole set? My mother-in-law gave me a GPS. Which is awesome. And kind of weird. Because I am still waiting for my own quilted kimono.
It's only a matter of time, right?
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