In polite society we never recognize bad gifts. Even though we really want to sometimes, right? I have to admit to feeling guilty just implying that I might want to recognize a bad gift. It's rude when someone gives you something to do anything less than welcome it with open arms and thank the giver profusely. This entire code of politeness backfires completely when gift givers knowingly work it against you. It allows for an entire realm of shitty-ness that I'm sure Emily Post never even considered.

Like the time my mother-in-law brought over a box of deodorant from a local warehouse store. She announced that she no longer used this type of deodorant because "they" (they = whoever she recognized as a current authority on whatever bullshit subject she was yammering about) said it "caused cancer."

Make no mistake, my MIL hates me. But, she's also stupid and I can see where she probably believed I wouldn't connect her animosity toward me with the box of "carcinogenic" material she brought into my house as a "gift" for me. The really funny part (if you like dark humor) is that my MIL already had breast cancer and it had come back after ten years. So here she is with cancer worried that she was going to what? Get more? Lots of people want to detox when they have cancer. But, who looks around and says, "These cabinets here contain loads of cancer causing agents, who am I going to give these to?"

Then there was the muumuu from Hawaii that my mother brought back from vacation. I had asked for a Hawaiian sundress, something really local. Instead I got this horrific looking white thing with huge royal blue flowers that looked like something Mrs. Roper would have worn on Three's Company. Worse yet, the tag said "MADE IN KOREA." My mother has great taste, but she was pissed at me for some unknown reason and on top of that wanted to make some subtle comment on my weight because I wasn't still a perfect size 4 and 125lbs that I was when I was fifteen.

Then there was my 27th birthday. My birthday falls shortly after Christmas and I've spent my entire life with less than stellar birthday presents because of it's proximity to the biggest gift giving holiday of the year. I'm really okay with it, I mean, what am I going to do about it anyway, right? And, of course, it's the thought that counts and blah, blah, blah.

That birthday my husband had about $70 to spend on a present for me. Of all these "bad gifts" this one really, really deserves a good guilt trip on my part because if ever it were the "thought that counts" this one was it. My husband chose quantity over quality and I received several birthday gifts that year. The list included a tortilla warmer, a heating pad, candles, and cheap bubble bath. Each gift had a thought and purpose behind it. The tortilla warmer was because I make really good tacos. The heating pad was for my ankle I broke years ago that tends to cause trouble for me in the winter. He had heard me saying I wanted more candles so he bought me the ugliest blue candles I have ever seen, but it was sweet of him to remember my mentioning candles. The bubble bath was on sale.

The important thing and the reason I shouldn't even list my husband's gifts here is that his thought was well-intentioned, sweet, and filled with consideration. He wasn't trying to kill me and he wasn't trying to tell me what an enormous fat ass I had become. It was simply done out of love... which is probably why I still speak to him. I can't say that for the other two.