My mind tends not to remember bad things very well. So I'm wracking my brain trying to think of my worst Christmas gift. The only thing I can come up with is that my mother has a tendency to visit jumble sales (rummage sale I think in the US) and junk shops, and pick up all sorts of tat that she then sends me for Christmas. Bagpipe fridge magnets, old cheap watches, a small duck holding a guitar, as I remember. All sorts of utterly useless stuff that I used to keep, but now just throw away. I don't have room, and I don't like any of it anyway.
But one gift, though crap, turned out to be quite useful. It was a dreadful framed print of a painting of a cat. I hung on to that for years - it sat in the boot (trunk) of my car, and moved from car to car as I bought new ones. I must have had it for over ten years before I realised its true value to me.
I commissioned a portrait of my love @redberry from my wonderful and talented friend @dewdrop. It hung on my wall for a while before I realised that it was about the same size as my cat print. Turns out, exactly the same size. So I threw away the cat, and my painting now hangs in a fairly nice frame.
Now my best Christmas gift is easy. Really really easy. That's a lovely purple baby doll négligée (and matching G string) that I received last year from @redberry.
She comes up a lot in posts about me and my life. That's because she's at the core of it.