Today’s prompt is: Your worst Christmas.
In 2012 my father had not long died before Christmas arrived. My children thinking, I needed all the help I could get in establishing myself in my father’s old house had earlier given me a new dinner set, so all the plates we ate from were the same.
When Christmas Day came by, they arrived with a large box.
Inside was every sort of Tupperware you could imagine. Yes, they had gift-wrapped the box but not the contents, thank goodness.
They explained that since I was reluctant to say what I wanted they were quite prepared to give me a ‘dumb arse’ gift.
Tupperware is useful, but I have since made every attempt to give them suggestions.