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’s a tie between a book on home charcuterie, when the giver was very aware that I was vegetarian at the time, and The Shack, a book about one’s relationship with god, when I was and still am not even a little religious.
To be fair, the charcuterie book was really nice, and did have a single chapter on preserving non-meat food items so…