The Return Line

Ahh, the holidays. Family, friends, food, fun and of course fresents. (Ok, "fresents" isn't really a word. I just now invented it because the word "presents" wouldn't of flowed as well.) Bad gifts and the holidays seem to go hand-in-hand. I mean it just wouldn't be the holidays without fruitcake and socks right? Gift cards can be nice because you pick out exactly what you want, but on the other hand, they are impersonal. And who wants an impersonal gift? Of course who wants socks for Christmas either? Then again, I was in need of some new socks and Santa did bring me some, so I'll stop talking about socks in this post now. And don't worry, I won't utter another word about fruitcakes. After all, I never even tasted fruitcake and I have no intention of doing so in my lifetime. My digestive system goes into lockdown when I threaten it with something that weighs more than a 10 inch brick. So thank you, but no thank you on the fruitcake.

Over the years I've received some bad gifts. No let me emphasize. Bad, bad, very bad gifts. I seriously got gold pants one year. I kid you not. Oh yeah, I should mention it was 2004, more than a decade after MC Hammer sang "2 Legit To Quit". These weren't any gold pants. These where SHINY gold pants. The kind with those gold flakes in them that caught the light and burned the retina in your eye. Yeah, that kind of gold pants. Solid gold pants. Gold TRACK pants even. The kind with elastic on the ankles and the waist. Baggy and gold. 3X size. By the way, I wear 32x34 pants so they were just a tad roomy on me. I believe I fit my entire body in one pant leg and had room for an extra person to swim in there with me. Did I mention they were gold? Stop. Hammer Time.

Other than gold pants, there was also the year of the unicycle. Yes, you read that right - a freakin' unicycle. Again, this is no joke. If I remember correctly, I was about 15 when I was given a unicycle on Christmas morning. My exact thoughts where "What the f*ck?" Of course I didn't say that. Instead I was polite (and shocked and frightened) saying "Wow. Hey. Um. A unicycle? Can't say I would of guessed that Gram." I should mention my Grandma isn't senile, just very...well very original in her gift ideas? I mean who even makes unicycles? Where do you even buy a unicycle? Does anyone ride a unicycle? I know bears do, but I wasn't aware 15-year-old boys were junking their BMX bikes for a one-wheeled wrecking machine. Perhaps it was all the rage back then and I was just left out of the loop? Somehow I doubt that. Being the good grandson that I am, I put on a smile, grabbed a ball and rode the shit out of that unicycle for Grandma all Christmas Day. If that's not "taking one for the team", then I don't know what is. Any circus bear reading this, look out - I just may steal your job!

The gold pants were given to the Salvation Army and the unicycle was sold at a garage sale...I think sold to a clown, who I'm sure re-gifted it and gave it to a bear the following Christmas. So to the kid out there rockin' the 3X gold pants and the bear who's perfecting his juggling routine on my unicycle, more power to ya.

So I ask you this...what is the worst gift you ever received? No need to identify the gift giver. In this case, I believe in protecting the guilty - the guilty person of bad gift giving.

(FYI: No rapper or bear was hurt in the writing of this post.