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.
When I was 11 I got "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time.
It absolutely spoke to baby autistic me, and I spent the whole of Christmas day morning engrossed in it.
I finished it by dinner time and was declared to have “wasted and spoiled my present” by - get this - reading it and loving it.
What the actual …? Were your family just not readers?
Absolutely not. Strange situation.