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Melted chocolate, broken down VW vans, and cemetery plots. People have sure gotten some sad gifts over the years and here they are to tell the story of the worst they ever received.

(Content has been edited for clarity.)

It Wasn't The Gift, But The Message Behind It

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It Wasn't The Gift, But The Message Behind It

I was told that I was just jealous, and 'It's not my fault that her family loves her enough to make sure that she has a happy Christmas!'

Not only did I watch my stepsister open the gifts I wanted, and plenty freaking more, but my stepmother basically made the inclination that I wasn't loved. Witch.

Things are now rocky with my dad. I still love him, but I just can't forgive him for being okay with the See-You-Next-Tuesday who doesn't give a crap about his own family."

Can't Have His Cake Or Eat It Either

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Can't Have His Cake Or Eat It Either

"For my wife's 30th birthday, I organized a surprise party. We had supper at the local pizza place (her favorite), then bowling, then a movie. For my thirtieth, she told me to go out and buy myself a cake. When I came home, her parents had shown up to partake in said cake. I had to go out again for soda. There was no cake left when I got back."

Half-Eaten Cookies For A Gift?

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Half-Eaten Cookies For A Gift?

"My uncle came to visit and gave my sister a regular present. He gave me a half-eaten small box of supermarket cookies. I was, intellectually, pretty good about it. I realized it meant nothing about his affection for me. He just found a good gift for her and hadn't thought about one for me. I was just embarrassed because I saw he was embarrassed, so I was quiet, which probably made him feel worse. But man, that gift sucked a lot more than saying, 'I forgot your gift at home. Next time, Champ.'"

Reminding Him Of The Inevitable
Reminding Him Of The Inevitable

"For my husband's 50th birthday, his parents gifted him the deed to his own cemetery plot (one for me, too). An expensive, but poorly-timed gift."

The Gifts Were Just Testament To How His Family Viewed Him

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The Gifts Were Just Testament To How His Family Viewed Him

"When I was 12, my mom surprised me with an interview and application for a private school, thinking I would be thrilled. She and my grandmother had paid for it. I hated school, I couldn't and still can't stand the busy work (if I could get graded on four tests a year, I'd be golden), but she thought I'd be super excited to leave my friends and family to go off to a school run by Quakers. I failed the interview spectacularly because I obviously had no interest in trying really hard in school, upholding Quaker values, doing boatloads of volunteer work, or even being there, getting interviewed. My mom yelled at me the whole way home for not trying hard enough, not having an interview plan, and for misleading her by pretending to be interested.

When I was 14, my mother got me hundreds of dollars of matting and framing equipment. I had never shown even the vaguest interest in this and had no idea what to do with it. Turns out she wanted me to mat and frame all of my brother's artwork, and getting me this stuff was cheaper than paying somebody to do it all.

When I was 15, my stepdad used my money to buy me an old Volkswagen bus. It was a rusty piece of garbage that didn't run. It got towed home and stuck in one of our two garage bays, where he expected me to work on cleaning it (buffing and grinding out rust, then sealing and painting) and repairing it (mind you it didn't run at all), despite the fact that I had no experience, and no tools (he would let me use very few of his), and he wouldn't offer any help or instruction. I also didn't have a job, and nobody wanted to drive me out of the sticks into town for the only job I could get. After two months of it sitting there, with next to nothing to show for it except a little rust removal and sliced up hands, he sold it and kept the money because he was tired of having it in his garage. I'd never asked for any kind of transportation.

Now I'm 21. This past Christmas, I showed up because it was my first Christmas after entirely leaving their support, getting my own apartment, job, and all that. I figured I owed them one last family event and if it was as crappy as all the others, I could justify not coming anymore. My mom had promised a big dinner and lots of family and friends over and told me to show up early. I showed up at 8 am, all the lights were off and I had to jimmy the latch like I was 16 and they forgot I was out again. I waited in the living room until 11, when they finally woke up.

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