The funnier, the more embarassing, the more dusgusting, the better. Bonus points for familial meltdowns!
Drunk grandmother. Passed out cold.
I could not afford to go home for x-mas living in LA (well okay the valley). Went to a bar x-mas eve and picked up this pretty hot guy, he kept telling me he was married and never did this before but wanted to try being with a guy which I thought "yeah right." We get going and at some point he decides to shove a finger up my ass and just does...fucking literally rips me a new one. There I am 2000 miles from home on x-mas eve with a douche bag closet case and a badly bleeding asshole...merry fucking x-mas. I get rid of him, drive myself to the emergency room trying to think of what story I am going to say and when I get there I am so tired and over it when they asked what happened I tell them "some straight guy's first time and he shoved his fat finger up my ass with out a hint of lube." The doctor at least was cool about it (he laughed said, "I honestly have never heard that one before").
Sorry about that, r2.
Santa said I was too heavy to sit on his lap.
I tried to cook the ham in my Easy-Bake Oven. Mom spanked me in front of the relatives!
When I was small, we always went to church for Christmas Eve service and then went home to open gifts. Several Christmas Eves were ruin by my parents getting into ridiculous fights right before church. Sitting in church trying to be happy sitting next to two people in stony silence. Then the same at home. Really tainted Christmas for me growing up.
Oxycontin addicted cousin cut her wrists at the dinner table with the turkey carving knife. What a mess. True story.
That's so sad, R5!
My mom did stuff like that, too. We were just trying to help!
R2, Doctors and emergency room personnel have literally heard everything. Didn't you hear the common story about the man who was vacuuming naked, because he was washing all of his clothes, and the hose on the vacuum "attacked" his penis?
Mom was having her time of the month and suddenly decided she hated the tree. She grabbed it with glass ornaments and lights and dragged it out the front door and threw it in the front yard. Then she threatened us, seven kids, that if anyone even dared to move it that we would be out there with it. When Dad came home he just went to his recliner and acted like nothing was wrong. She threw pots and pans and screamed at him till midnight then everyone had to go to church. We came home about 2am and she made Dad go get the tree and then made us fix it back up. Christmas Day we had about forty relatives over and she acted like we were one big happy family. This was one of the nicer Christmases.
"This was one of the nicer Christmases."
Adam A. (R10), OP asked for worst ever Christmas stories. Try harder.
Mum died on the 10th, her funeral was held on the 15th and I had to start a new job doing aged care, including a lot of palliative work, on the 17th. I think I was in shock that xmas, and am only just now starting to get a bit of feeling for it all nine years later.
My parents, Sharon and Dave, were generous and doting. Or were they??
All I ever wanted was a Ballerina Barbie, in her pretty pink tutu. Christmas morning came. I was 10. And do you know what they got me?
That's not what I wanted!! That's not who I was!! I was a BALLERINA!! GRACEFUL. DELICATE.
They had to go.
I was married to this one guy, but I was pregnant with this other guy's baby (total God but he was using me.) Anyway, me and the husband hit the road and I went into labour and I wound up giving birth in a barn.... I'll never forget that Christmas. And neither will you.
So I am supposed to try harder! Another Christmas my Mom wanted to go to a concert that was out of town. Christmas Eve, we were each handed a five dollar bill as our Christmas present. then my parents took off to Dallas for the concert. They left my 17 year old brother to babysit 6 kids. He locked us up in the basement with no heat and took off with his friends. He came home at 2 a.m. and told us to not tell mom and dad what he did. Next day, when my parents came home, one of my siblings ratted my brother out and we were all whipped for lying. Great memories.
As a child, all the kids in the neighborhood would go out caroling and then go back to one of our homes for hot chocolate and cookies. One year we went by a house and a lady came out and screamed at us to go away and told us that the relatives coming to stay with them for Christmas were killed in a car accident.
In college, my sister and I were driving to my parents house for Christmas. Traffic slowed down and next to the car was a child and his bike mangled under another car.
[quote]my parents took off to Dallas for the concert. They left my 17 year old brother to babysit 6 kids. He locked us up in the basement with no heat and took off with his friends.
Interesting troll thread, but if you really lived in Texas you'd know that no one has basements here.
My uncle got drunk and tried to choke my aunt. We had not seen them for years and had really looked forward to their visit. My younger cousins were hysterical and crying. My father stepped in and stopped him, obviously, by tossing him out into the snow. He "cooled off," so to speak.
This is not even close to some of these serious horror stories, but it was definitely the worst Christmas in my memory.
My psycho older sister (over 40 at the time), who had been having some kind of long-running bitch-feud with mom, was snarking about everyone who had come to Mom's for Christmas dinner. She obviously assumed that I agreed with her opinions, and it pissed me off at being pulled into her drama. Then she started in on our dear old auntie for bringing some gold-awful thing for the potluck, and I finally told my sister to just shut the hell up and stop being such a fucking bitch about everybody.
Well, that did it - she fled to the bathroom sobbing and locked the door, my mother raced after her, then turned on ME for upsetting Psycho-Sister, who suddenly emerged from the bathroom and ran out yelling, "I'm leaving! You've ruined Christmas for EVERYBODY!" I followed her out to her car and really gave her an earful about just sucking it up once in a while and not trashing people like Auntie, who had never been anything but loving and generous with all of us.
Psycho-Sister roared off, skidded around the corner and smacked into a parked car. Angry people poured out of that house, the police were called, my family raced down there to "assist" (ie: get into fight with the other folks), several arrests were made, and in all the excitement the Christmas turkey burned to a crisp.
I got into my car and went home and refused to answer the phone for a week. This happened 3 years ago and my sister is still not speaking to me, and mom is still demanding that I apologize to everyone involved. I now spend Christmas in Hawaii.
Merry Crackmas from the Fowler Family!
I asked Santa to make John not dead. I made the Marshall Fields Santa cry; I was 4 and only knew that my mom was crying over his death.
The worst thing that ever happened to me was on Christmas. Oh, God. It was so horrible. It was Christmas Eve. I was 9 years old. Me and Mom were decorating the tree, waiting for Dad to come home from work. A couple hours went by. Dad wasn't home. So Mom called the office. No answer. Christmas Day came and went, and still nothing. So the police began a search. Four or five days went by. Neither one of us could eat or sleep. Everything was falling apart. It was snowing outside. The house was freezing, so I went to try to light up the fire. That's when I noticed the smell. The firemen came and broke through the chimney top. And me and Mom were expecting them to pull out a dead cat or a bird. And instead they pulled out my father. He was dressed in a Santa Claus suit. He'd been climbing down the chimney... his arms loaded with presents. He was gonna surprise us. He slipped and broke his neck. He died instantly. And that's how I found out there was no Santa Claus.
When I was a little kid, my right leg was amputated on Christmas Eve. My father, Bob, begged his employer, Mr. Dickens, for a loan so better Harley Street surgeons could save it.
The only thing he gave us, however, was a scrawny, ancient turkey that gave our family food poisoning on Christmas Day. And Father was docked on Boxing Day because he was puking his guts out and couldn't go to work.
At least Mr. Dickens got a good story out of it. Fucker.
R21 I don't believe you. I read something similar one time in the paper so you just copied it.
This pales in comparison to a lot of stories but my father died when I was seven. I don't remember whether it was Christmas that year or the next, but we had little or no money. So for Christmas, I got some clothes. It had been explained to me we didn't have money and while I'm sure I was disappointed (and probably cried) that I didn't get a game or something, I'm also sure I got over quickly. I have not doubt my mother felt awful too and I probably hurt her.
Anyway, it was when we went back to school and our friends were discussing what we got for Christmas. I told them clothes and my best friend was freaked that I didn't get a game or a toy. I remembered being embarrassed and I probably cried.
But aside from a few dustups with family, there were no truly horrible experiences with crazy parents or siblings.
Yet R23 believes R22
I have my own Psycho Sister. She's addicted to booze and pills and has a couple of personality disorders. After years of manipulating people and burning bridges, she was banned from celebrating Christmas with the family. Before my mother left to join the rest of us at my other sisters home, Psycho Sister decided to announce "I might have HIV" which as you can imagine, ruined Christmas for my mother and most everyone else.
Well done, R17 - I was just about to post the same thing. Fort Worth here!
My story is the last time I saw my family, five years ago.
The prior three years had been a nightmare involving my sister, her drugs and stealing and adultery, my parents taking in another sister's kids who tried to burn down their house, and my brother getting kicked out of the military for trying to kill someone.
For those three years I was on the phone every weekend talking someone down or helping put out a fire. Get this person into rehab, pay that fine, pay that bail, etc. It was completely nuts.
Then comes Christmas. Most of the family is there and I'm counting the minutes until the tears start flowing. And I can't even remember what started it all - and in the interest of brevity I'll get to the punchline, which is that they all collectively decided that all of the things that they had done were stories I had made up.
At first I thought they were kidding, but they were adamant that my sister had never been arrested. They had no idea what I was talking about. My brother left the Air Force with a clean record. My nieces had never even lived with them. Maybe I was confused.
I looked from one to another and kept waiting for them to break, or somebody to laugh, but they were serious! It was really fucked up.
I was so creeped out I left a few minutes later, and don't think I even said goodbye. I emailed them to explain myself and got back more "we don't understand why you're spreading these stories" messages, to the point that I decided that I'd been fooling myself long enough and cut my losses.
Merry Christmas you fucking loons!
[quote]they all collectively decided that all of the things that they had done were stories I had made up.
We've all decided that, too.
Oh R30. To try SO hard, and to fail SO thoroughly. Poor thing.
[quote]they all collectively decided that all of the things that they had done were stories I had made up.
I have family like this. I can't even tolerate kissing their asses (they're rich), because they're complete weirdos with public facades and will fight for those facades at all costs. Basically, everyone ends up decidedly "crazy" except for them.
My grandpa was a fifth-per-day whiskey binge drunk who really poured it on during the holidays. Many Christmas dinners he'd be so wasted he'd pass out face-first in his dinner, right in the mashed potatoes; we knew he was still alive because his breathing would make little bubbles in the gravy. And the family was so used to this that whenever it happened, the dinner conversation wouldn't even miss a beat. Everyone kept eating like it was all perfectly normal.
There were also other Christmases were Grandpa was so drunk he'd piss and/or shit his pants (my aunt and 2 cousins would casually change him like a baby without saying a word). Yes, we're talking a level of borderline-overdose alcohol abuse where a person can't even control basic body functions. And there was a Christmas where he started vomiting at the table and gargling on it (it was an almost strangely musical sound) and blowing little vomit bubbles. And of course in their denial, everybody pretended not to notice.
The insane thing is that the fucker lived to be 86 drinking like this his entire life, and he died with a functioning liver! He even had the audacity to outlive my other 3 grandparents! Most bullet proof liver I've ever seen in my life.
Don't they have tornadoes in parts of Texas?
I was a broke college student who had to stay in my apartment over the Christmas holidays to work and get some cash for the next semester. The apartment was a basement apartment in an old, somewhat decrepit, house. The furnace was almost as old as the house and that Christmas Eve, it decided to stop working.
My apartment was chilly at the best of times but that night, it froze up. And a pipe that led to the outside faucet also froze up and burst. So I wake up on Christmas morning with no heat and with icy water covering the floor. And, of course, I have no choice but to shut off the water, which is still leaking trough the burst pipe.
So I'm alone on Christmas, with no heat, no water, and a skating rink forming in my kitchen. All of my friends are back home with their families. My landlord is on vacation and I have no idea if he'll check his answering machine. I'm a broke college student and I can't afford to pay the plumber or furnace repairman myself, even if I could get someone willing to come out on Christmas Day, and in the Midwest, where I was living then, nothing is open on Christmas Day.
Merry fucking Christmas to me.
R28- I grew up in Fort Worth
R34- The Panhandle and high plains around Midland, Lubbock have frequent tornadoes , hurricanes along the coast of course (and those spawn tornadoes which historically have done more damage than the hurricane itself.)
Last Christmas I was living 800 miles from my BF and missing him terribly, I had pneumonia. I lived with a roommate who left to attend his family gathering and I was alone in an under-insulated trailer in North Carolina and it was snowing. The power went off and the heat didn't work for almost two days. I was cold, sick and alone and I couldn't even heat up a bowl of soup for Christmas dinner.
This year the BF and I are nestled away in a condo on the beach in sunny Florida, He spends his time ignoring me and playing video games and I am warm and put on ten flabby pounds and I don't want anything for Christmas, I have everything anybody could really want,
Well one of those new Norelco wet dry shavers would be nice,
[quote]Don't they have tornadoes in parts of Texas?
We do. However, we also have a very high water table.
[quote][R21] I don't believe you. I read something similar one time in the paper so you just copied it.
And who do you think the newspaper article was about?
The newspaper article was probably about the movie "Gremlins." You know, where Phoebe Cates' character tells that story.
My mother once forbade me to go to the family Xmas dinner at my aunts unless I changed out of those "homosexual" pants. I refused to change, probably because the last thing I wanted to do was spend time with my mother's family. By the way, the pants were those hideous 80's parachute pants and they were turquoise with parrot green lining. Just absolutely obnoxious. So in a lot of ways it was a good Christmas, but indicative of my relationship with both my parents which was bad.
My worst Christmas was when I was haunted by three spirits (four if you count my business partner's poltergeist). They then used terror, sleep deprivation, painful memory regression and foreshadowing threats to harass me into celebrating their Christian holiday. By driving me borderline insane. When all I ever asked was to simply be left alone.
All I wanted was to take the dog for a walk and look at the pretty Christmas decorations. But because I wasn't as cute as the towns people they drove me up a mountain.
Then they'd sing, and then eat a roast beast, but never ask me. Which is OK but I was hungry as was Fido.
So I snuck down into town and some bitch named CyndiLu Whom, was thieving. Then this bitch screams rape and has ME arrested. Of course it was a sham trial because they were prejudice against my kind.
Ugh. I'm from Lubbock Texas and yes we had a basement. Lots of tornados in the Spring. Don't be so close minded. And at least make the retorts witty. BTW, not a troll... I love my parents and my siblings. Just had screwed up holidays like everyone else... I have lots more stories... The years the police showed up.. The year my sister outed me... The year we found out about the affair.... Seemed like Christmas was always the culmination of events...
Thread Death by posters trying to be "witty."
ITA with R43. Lame ass @ R41 is stinking up a lot of threads with his cringe worthy lounge act.
Well, this isn't the same "worst" as other ones here, and it's not funny or gross, just a sort of rock bottom story.
After I left my boyfriend, deciding he would always choose the drugs and booze over me, he went on just fine. Dated other people, our mutual friends didn't seem to believe me that he was slowly killing himself, got a great job where he somehow functioned, etc.
I was devastated even though I was the one who left! It was so confusing. I became a recluse in my apartment, only going to work, often calling in sick, and doing nothing but eating...essentially getting my own addiction problems, but ones that were making me really fat. You know what fat means in most of NYC, right? I was invisible.
That Christmas I had nothing to do, so I decided, like the year before, to have Chinese food and a movie, like we always used to do together because he hated Xmas. I ate a lot of food and went to a little theater in Brooklyn on a nice street with lots of bars and restaurants.
Everyone was paired up, families were out walking the streets, everything was beautiful in the store windows and restaurants, and it made me more miserable. To make matters worse, I went to see Brokeback Mountain and sat next to a couple who cried and held each other, and I wanted so bad to be with my ex.
I actually cannot remember the rest of that year and much of the next because I was really hitting rock bottom, but not with booze or drugs, just with food and hermit-like behavior. I didn't want to go anywhere and see anyone.
Happy to say that this Christmas is pretty much the opposite of that one. I wish I could convince lonely people that it can change--I was so far gone, but turned it around.
[quote] She grabbed it with glass ornaments and lights and dragged it out the front door and threw it in the front yard.
LOL, mine did that too, the crazy bitch. Back yard, though. I presume so neighbors wouldn't see.
R19 and R29, I feel so bad for each of you BUT you each have done the right thing. R29, along with emailing your family, I wish you had also sent them copies of documentation of what you were talking about - like a copy of your nephew's arrest record, etc. I would have been SO mad if I were you. Maybe they'll come to their senses someday.
[quote]He spends his time ignoring me and playing video games and I am warm and put on ten flabby pounds and I don't want anything for Christmas, I have everything anybody could really want,
You've really set the bar high haven't you R36?
One year when I was around 8 years old my aunt showed up the night before Christmas with my cousin who was 3 or 4 at the time sporting a black eye after her husband beat the shit out of her,that was a memorable Christmas.
I can relate to r45.
The third year we were together, my first partner was being secretive about Christmas -- we had a tree, but no visible presents and we hadn't really planned for Christmas Day itself. He'd been acting cheerful all month, and very secretive. I assumed there was going to be a big surprise.
There was. Less than a week before Christmas, he informed me he had already found an apartment with someone else (actually, a couple -- and a couple of drug addicts at that) and he was moving out during the week between Christmas and New Year's. That was what he had been planning all month.
I was in shock. Unfortunately, I was also in my mid-20s and hadn't realized we shouldn't be sharing the same main bank account. When I finally checked, it had been cleared out, leaving me pretty much broke. The only way I got through that holiday was with the support of friends.
It all worked out; the relationship with the couple of drug addicts lasted just a few months (their house got broken into twice after weekend-long "parties"), my ex lost all our friends, and, having burned all his bridges in town, by next Christmas he had moved to Palm Springs, where he didn't live happily ever after.
Did you live at the Russian River, R50?
Nope, r51 -- other side of the country.
Doesn't anyone have more stories?
My worst Christmas was in 2009. My Mom died unexpectedly on December 10th and I was devastated. I ended up driving her dog home with me 2,000 miles away. I got home and my partner flew out to be with her homophobic family the next day, leaving me behind.
Christmas day I sat by myself sobbing as I unwrapped gifts from my deceased Mother.
Pity party of one
Jesus, that sounds truly horrendous, R54. *hugs*
2009 December 23, my sister found out she had breast cancer and had to wait until after the new year to find out what stage it was in and what type of treatment she needed.
My partner of 7 years and I broke up the next day on Christmas Eve.
Merry Fucking Christmas.
R54 I'm sorry that you win.
Mine was traumatic for many years, now I'm over it, but damn it pissed me off. My folks decided to be Jehovah Witnesses a few months before Christmas so if you know them it means no more holidays.. I was almost 10 - who does that shit? At least we could have had one last hoorah.
Landing during a tornado (not in the States) on Christmas Day. My most white knuckle flight ever although flying through the thunderhead offered views of the most spectacular torn cloud formations I've ever seen. Funnel touched down near airport. We were stuck on the runway for half an hour surrounded by pitch black clouds.
[quote]My mother once forbade me to go to the family Xmas dinner at my aunts unless I changed out of those "homosexual" pants.
One Christmas I was deep in the vortex of advanced drug addiction and unemployment. I was crashing on my last friend's couch in a rough Oakland neighborhood. He left to be with his family for Christmas. I found a pack of Doral cigarettes and a pack of saltine crackers on the kitchen counter. My Christmas gift. All my friends had pretty much, and deservedly, abandoned me, but one guy took pity on me and I actually did have a Christmas dinner that year.
Things are all better now. And I've been able to repay everyone for their kindness.
[quote]I found a pack of Doral cigarettes and a pack of saltine crackers on the kitchen counter. My Christmas gift.
That's like the queen version of the penny-and-an-orange gifts the Ingalls girls used to get on "Little House on the Prairie."
Mom caught me and my boyfriend having a quickie, me with my legs in the air. The rest of the weekend went by really uncomfortably.
[quote]my ex lost all our friends, and, having burned all his bridges in town, by next Christmas he had moved to Palm Springs, where he didn't live happily ever after.
Don't tell me...he became one of Tom Bianchi's "soul mates", right?
Yeah, [R15] I call ' bullshit ' on the Texas basement story. Nice try. Funny tale. Do yer homework, Spud!
Well, there was that time I was kidnapped by a black drag queen for about 9 hours. No joke.
r64, could you give us more details?
Don't leave us hanging.
I was about 5 or 6 years old, a scrawny little girl. My girl cousins from one family (about six girls), with whom I had a love/hate relationship with, came over to visit on Christmas eve. Since the adults were drinking and smoking in the living room, the kids decided to find a place to play away from the adult company. Either we found my bedroom boring or my dad told me we couldn't play in it, so we decided to camp in the bathroom. We were playing with our girlie lipsticks or that musical game with the hands (don't recall the name). Innocent stuff. We would move out if any adult needed the bathroom.
Well my dad was either drunk or a on a tear that night. He busted into the bathroom and went straight for me. Dragged me out of the bathroom by my hair into the living room. the other kids followed. There, my dad proceeded to beat the shit out of me. He hit me with his hands, he slapped me, he spanked me so hard, my body would fly up fromthe impact. I was a little girl and he beat me in front of everyone. I don't know what my mother was doing if she just sat there in fear or what but I know everyone else was watching. When he was done beating me, he made me sit there, in the living with everyone. I couldn't escape. I cried so hard, I was having trouble catching my breath. You know that joke Bernie Mac used to tell. How his grand mama would hit him so hard, he would cry but no sound would come out of him? that was me that night. I don't even remember the pain just the humiliation. My cousins stared at me all night. Not one fucking adult stood up and made him stop.
That's a true story.
[quote]Mine was traumatic for many years, now I'm over it, but damn it pissed me off. My folks decided to be Jehovah Witnesses a few months before Christmas so if you know them it means no more holidays.. I was almost 10 - who does that shit? At least we could have had one last hoorah.
Holy shit R57. I went through the same thing. My dad was raised a JW but left around the time he started the family. We had Christmas until I was seven years old, that was the year he went back to them. Christmas comes around and no tree, no presents, nothing. We asked him where they were and he said "We don't do that anymore."
And that was the end of Christmas.
My whole family and extended family was going to go on a trip and they left me home alone.
The next time they did this, I made a LOT more money though
I wanted a pair of black cha cha heels but my stupid parents gave me lame shoes instead after making me sing "Silent Night" with them. I got pissed, tore the tree apart then shoved it over ontop of my bitch mother. I don't ask for much but, dammit, all I wanted were cha cha heels.
Jeez, if your going to copy from a movie, at least get the character's name correct.
"This is Dawn Davenport. Dawn Davenport... you made love to me Christmas morning."
R66, that is truly awful. I would've hatched a revenge plot right then. Years later, he would never have known what hit him.
But I'm that way.
I was living with friends of my family while they were off somewhere. A very nice couple, I thought. They went to our church and my folks thought they'd be the perfect guardians for me. I was 17, just came out of the closet, with full acceptance from the folks...(Unitarian Church)
Well, Bonnie, the lady of the house, was a big drinker. At the end of dinner, she would lift the martini pitcher to her lips with both hands and chug it down.
Then we would wait for the drama to begin. Curtain up, light the lights.
Perry, her husband, was like Ward Cleaver. He was an architect and he designed this modern house that sat in the woods and blended into the scenery ... just like Perry.
Well, Christmas Eve, Bonnie put the pitcher down, stood up, looked at me, and shouted "You don't know what it's like for a woman. You just want to BE one!" Then she cut for the door and ran out to her Mustang and started it up. She was smashed. We all freaked, except for Perry of course.
When I ran out to the driveway, Bonnie had backed up and knocked the birdbath off its pedestal. I asked her to come in the house and tried to grab the keys. She looked at me like I was crazy and floored it. We could hear her going down the long driveway bumping into the shrubbery.
Perry insisted we sit and wait, not wanting his friends to know his wife was out driving drunk. Finally, she came back like nothing happened and turned on the TV.
The strange part is Bonnie's daughter Carrie was staying over, and late that night she snuck into my room naked and got into bed with me.
I had a moment of sexual confusion. Did I want to be a "woman?" Or did I want to be Bonnie's son-in-law.
We did the deed, it was great, but, ultimately, "woman" won out, lol.
Two nights ago, with my partner's redneck, white trash family. Had to listen to his mother and his uncle's new wife (complete with prison tats) debate which eatery has the better bread....McDonald's or Jack in the Box.
I sent a snail mail note last week to my sister, and told her I was skipping this Christmas trek to her house. Three days later I get a call from her wanting to know what was up. She had an irritated tone in her voice. I explained that in the last 3 years, none of her kids and not even she herself had bothered to send any thank you notes. Emails would have been fine, and I am in touch with them electronically. My sister tells me I am petty, and hangs up on me.
The next day my oldest (19) niece emails me and is mad because I hurt her mother's feelings. How did I hurt her feelings? The other niece (17) emails me right after that and says she is sorry she was so thoughtless not thanking me. Then she said this year she was really counting on the money I usually give. She didn't mention what she needed the money for.
I haven't responded to either of them yet. I know I'm being a dick. Ironic, since I'm a lesbian.
I'm sorry Uncle Cynthia, but you probably sounded petty to your sister. You could have attended with a family gift or with no gifts. But to say that you're not attending because people didn't thank you separately for the past gifts makes you sound as if you were deliberately starting a fight.
I took my presents back for the money. You can do that, you know.
The problem, r74, was that my sister IS petty, and seems to have instilled that in her daughters.
They are going to plotz when I give my only nephew, a straight A student and a devoted nephew, a really nice sturdy car when he goes off to college in late summer. He always thanks me for everything, and thinks I am the coolest person. Tell me, how (if you are able) you could you not indulge this kid?
"Uncle Cynthia", are you talking about thank you notes for gifts given at Christmases that you all spent together? Didn't they thank you in the moment? Why would they send you notes as well? Or are you talking about other gifts?
I;m on Uncle Cynthia's side. I'm sick of ingrates being coddled for their (mis)behavior.
[quote] and a devoted nephew
The only 'devoted' nephew that I know of ended up stealing money from his elderly aunt. Fortunately she was so far gone that she never knew.
You suck R71. Never try your hand at writing again.
Dayum r54. I was going to post what I thought was a family drama barn burner. But shit, your experience trumps mine in comparison by a thousand.
The fact that you can write it and post it means that you win.
Happy New Year. Hugs!
I was stuck staying at my sorority house over the holidays for whatever reason. My season was already sucking because I was pregnant and had decided on an abortion which, as you can guess, did not sit well with the father. He was trying to win a music scholarship and basically blamed me for his blowing his audition! He said that I was treating it like having a wart removed! To add insult to injury several of my sorority sisters were killed!! Including Barb, who was a real cut-up! That Christmas sucked for sure!
My parents were drunks and their very frequent arguments would often end up physical. So the year I got my first bike for Christmas was also the year I learned Santa wasn't real.
I guess something annoyed one of them while "Santa" was putting gifts under the tree and assembling my bike because they got into the fights of all fights.
I went downstairs to beg them to stop and to go to bed as I usually did when their fights started to scare me. I made it halfway down the staircase and saw a partially assembled bike on the floor and wrapped gifts all over the place and the two of them hitting and throwing shit at each other.
Woke up the next morning with mom and dad trying to make a big deal about going downstairs to see what "Santa" brought me. He brought me a partially assembled bike amid gifts flung all over the place. My birthday is a few days after Christmas and my parents asked what I wanted... I asked for my father to move out.
Sorry Uncle Cynthia. If you are actually there with them when a present is given and they say, "Thank you," then you've been thanked. No need for a note.
Pure lesbian drama being played out.
[quote]we don't understand why you're spreading these stories" messages, to the point that I decided that I'd been fooling myself long enough and cut my losses.
R29, It's called "gaslighting". After the famous movie "Gaslight". The crazymakers want you to think your the one who is nuts. My mother does it all the time. We tried family counseling after my sister's suicide, but the therapist "fired" her because of it. That was the first time I'd heard the term.
I rented "Black Christmas" thinking I could satisfy both my Santa and dinge fetishes. Boy, was I wrong.
Last year my younger sister came home Christmas night completely wrecked, wasted and high on benzos and, we'd find out later, heroin. I was calling our parents who weren't home when she lunged at me in an attempt to take the phone. Seeing as she could barely speak, let alone stand, she stumbled. Not keen to faceplant onto the brick floor she grabbed at the tree for support. The 11' tree and a few dozen ornaments (family heirlooms) came crashing down on top of her. She rolled around in the broken glass fighting me off as I tried to lift the tree from her. By the time my parents got home to take her to the hospital she'd passed out and was barely breathing. I spent the next hour or two searching her things for empty pill bottles, anything that could help the doctors know what she took and how to treat her. Another hour of tweezing fine shards of glass from my hands and arms and I went to bed. I woke up to my parents screaming. There had been no beds at the inpatient hospital (busy time of year) and they'd had to bring my sister home until there was an opening. During the night she ran away and we spent Boxing Day tracking her bare footprints through the snow until we found her passed out in a snowbank 2 miles from home.
Worst Christmas Ever was when my grandmother... God Bless her, left our house on Christmas Eve and unfortunately, got ran over by a reindeer.
R82 - Black Christmas is one of my favorite movies. It guest stars Andrea Martin, from Second City TV!
If nieces and nephews don't send thank you cards or emails it is the parents fault. The kids don't know any better these days.
R72, isn't the answer to the question you mentioned partner's relatives asking: "Neither"? (dear God: debating quality of bread at McD's v. Jack-in-the Snatch? UNreal!)
R83: And did you get your wish; did your father move out
Dinner with my husband's nearly deaf racist Republican father scream about what's wrong with this country in a packed restaurant that was probably ten percent white.
This thread is priceless! I spent xmas totally alone this year and haven't even heard from any fam nor tried to call them. Thanks for making me feel better about that.
Ham! In an easybake oven!
Serving food to the down and out this past Christmas. My husband brought along a box of duplicate Star Wars action figures and gave them to some of the kids after serving.
Oh wait--wrong thread.
There was the Christmas when I was in about the 2nd grade. Our school was doing a food and toy drive for the poor and needy. You know, families in the community who we knew were really poor and felt sorry for and knew they wouldn't have any Christmas without our help.
I was determined to help make it a great Christmas for whichever family got my care package. My family didn't have much but I packed it up with my warmest sweater, an old coat I didn't really fit in anymore and put the best of our canned foods (generic brands) and some toys that I had. I was really proud.
Imagine my surprise (and heartbreak) when on Christmas Eve there's a knock on our door and left there is not just a box for the poor... but the box had some of my own stuff in it.
I was mortified.
That's actually a great story r96.
There's nothing awful about that R96
I don't think they were trying to tell you that you were poor, R96. I think they were just giving your used shit back to you. Charities don't take stuff that isn't new to give as gifts at Christmas time.
They were most definitely telling us we were poor. This was done through my grade school. The donations were all anonymous and we were encouraged to provide old clothes, etc. that we didn't need.
R79, my sister was a devoted niece. She also changed my aunt's will so she and her family got all of her money. It must have been at least a couple hundred grand.
So far, this Christmas. My father has been a mess for years. He's an alcoholic, he smokes, he has insanely high blood pressure, he eats a terrible diet...a story you've heard a million times. But there's more, and this is before the "lousy Christmas" part. He has refused to see a doctor or dentist before he becomes eligible for Medicare next May and does not currently work or have health insurance. The last time I got him to go to the doctor was probably 8 years ago when I made him have this huge growth on his neck looked at. The doctor was able to tell him it was not cancerous, just a really big cyst. So my father decides to do nothing about it. He now looks like he has a tennis ball under the skin on one side of his neck. His teeth are so rotten that when he gets a toothache, he pulls the offender out himself with pliers. His front teeth are falling out on their own. About four years ago, he had a probable stroke and has a weak, numb right arm. He can no longer paint or draw, or play the guitar. He didn't see a doctor then. But that's not the bad thing either.
My brother came in from out of town for Christmas and as he usually does, he is staying with my father. Immediately he noticed my father was behaving very strangely. Basically, sometime during the week between when I last saw my father and my brother's arrival, my father lost his marbles. Like he got Alzheimer's overnight. We finally got him to a sliding scale clinic, where they pretty much ruled out another stroke, although they couldn't say for sure without doing more. He has so many things wrong with him they don't know where to start. He has become forgetful (while helping him fill out paperwork I had to tell him the date every time a form required it...probably seven times) and confused. He spaces out and doesn't answer when spoken to, or answers something completely bizarre and irrelevant. He hadn't done any preparation for this sort of thing; he thinks I have power of attorney for him but I don't, no one does. My brother is leaving soon and my sister is already totally overloaded (single working mom, loser ex-husband doesn't pay his share, his family is crazy so she can't get help from them with childcare, etc.) so this mess is going to fall to me, and I am completely unequipped to deal with it--I can barely take care of myself!
I suspect Wernicke-Korsakoff Syndrome, for what it's worth.
I had a meltdown at least two times this Christmas. It's probably the last Christmas my immediate family will be together so I'd been planning this holiday a long time - the food, decorations and activities. Very little went as planned. Everything seemed so dysfunctional and I felt left out because I was always busy cooking while the men were together doing other things. I couldn't even connect with my own children. I just lost it. I apologized but I'm sure they couldn't wait to leave. I'm devastated. That's what they're going to remember about me.
Dear R103. Being host or hostess is the least enjoyable role of a big get-together - it's stressful and you don't get to interact in the same way as everyone else. So despite the meltdowns (which are expected and were probably much smaller than you think), I'm sure that everyone else had a great time and really appreciated your efforts and will reflect warmly about it, and about you, in the years to come.
Aww R96 what a lovely little kid you were. Hugs for real.
Boyfriend left me a few months ago, parents are dead, don't really have relatives who would feel comfortable having me over. So all alone.
R102, are you unaware of what a "Christmas Story" is?
After a week of my husband being a galactic-class cunt, I took my anger out on the Christmas tree and completely destroyed that bitch. We're both pretty appalled but I honestly don't feel bad. I fucking hate the silent treatment.
You don't like the silent treatment?
Then why'd you put up with it? You either like it or you're a pussy.
I mean, you sound pathetic putting up with a passive aggressive POS who gives you the silent treatment, but then again, you're even more passive aggressive by destroying the tree instead of dealing with it like a man.
Went to Hawaii at one of my families many homes, I made it clear with my Mother that the decor should be in tones of butterscotch. When I arrived that house was done in sunflower yellow
Big hugs to 66 and everyone else whose hearts were hurt on Christmas.
When I was about 7 my older sister got a bike for Christmas. She was, and is a doll, full of energy, maybe too much energy for my proper mother. She took off on the bike and had a dust up with a truck. The driver brought her home, her cheek was scraped but no other damage. The driver was so kind and caring, my mother thanked him then when he was gone, lit into my sister for being reckless.
She then made her stay home while the rest of us went to someone's house for an afternoon visit. I felt sick for my sister. My mother shouldn't have had kids, she was so controlling and mean. She repented later though, and made up for it in her dotage, although the sadness for the love you missed in childhood never goes away.
Thanks for the comment, R112, but as with most things in life the reality of it is far more complicated than that. But then again, your comment shows that you've never been in a serious relationship in your life, just one three-month roll after another - with the weeping escape after you discover some minor inconvenience.
Now, as for me - yeah, I hate the silent treatment. I do feel like a doormat for putting up with it. Here's to a better 2013.
[quote]I was deep in the vortex of advanced drug addiction and unemployment.
I am curious, may I ask which drug?
[quote]a really nice sturdy car when he goes off to college in late summer
Why do I have a feeling you're giving him an old Buick? (not a bad present by all means, but it seems you're trying to hide the fact that it's a boring old brand - don't!).
[quote]but if you really lived in Texas you'd know that no one has basements here.
Someone has to say it - "there's nao byesement at the Eyalamoe! Hahahahahahahaahaha!"