Lemondrop

Bad gifts are often thought to be the specialty of boyfriends and husbands, but last Christmas, my mother-in-law outdid even the worst of thoughtless exes.

This woman, who will openly admit that she is not skilled in the area of gift giving, decided to give me a scale for Christmas. Yes, a scale. Not the antique sort that looks nice on a coffee table, or the kitchen kind that makes people wonder if you deal drugs. It was the kind you step on in order to find out the dreaded number: your weight.

Yes, that kind of scale.

The sort you avoid for days, particularly after the holidays, when chocolate is plentiful and seems to taste extra good. The sort that you stand on in the doctor's office, praying the person reading it doesn't say the result aloud. That kind of scale.

Click here to read how Amanda dealt with the "helpful" gift.


In her defense, I had, at some point, mentioned that I needed one. By "needed one," I meant that if I ever got out of the denial that my weight I had increased, I might purchase one. I certainly didn't expect to get one as a Christmas gift. Especially not from my mother-in-law (I could have seen it coming from my own mother, however).

After all, nothing says, "Merry Christmas! You're getting wider" quite like a scale. It was a definite dietary wake-up call. I think?

I wasn't upset with my mother-in-law about it, what with her disclaimer about being a poor gift giver. She's also big on practical gifts; when my husband was a child, he got school supplies as birthday presents. She had more than likely heard me say that I needed a scale and thought that she was doing me a favor.

So I decided to grin and bear it, despite the fact that -- intentional or not -- it was by far the worst gift that I have ever received. Right after the miniature manicure set that someone inevitably gets me every year.

Tell us: What is the worst gift that you have ever received?