One Christmas a friend of mine invited me to a Christmas party with a bunch of his friends, none of which I knew. He told me (and I quote), “We’re having a naughty Santa gift exchange, so bring something to give.” I’d never heard someone use that term before, but being a person of sub-par to average intelligence, I assumed that meant a white elephant gift exchange and didn’t ask any questions. No sweat. Just a brief perusal of my parents’ basement will bring me what I need. I found a statue of a cat laying down that was about a foot long. The cat was multi-colored with velvet like stuff on it to make it soft. In other words, it was really tacky, ugly and undesirable. I think my Grandma bought it at a thrift store. Anyways, I wrapped that as my gift. Upon arrival to the party, I set it lovingly beneath the bows of the Christmas tree and chuckled to myself at its inherently white elephant nature. The time came for us to open the gifts. Sweet. The first gift opened was a…..(drumroll) nice picture frame. Second gift…..(drumroll) nice set of Yankee candles. Third gift…..(drumroll)…………a…..a gross thrift store/basement stored/bizarre looking/tacky statue of a cat? That jerk totally lied to me! That was no “naughty Santa” or whatever the heck you want to call it gift exchange! I sat there completely degraded and humiliated in front of a bunch of strangers. The guy who opened the gift was very gracious though. I tried to explain myself, but he just kept on going on about how it was ok and he could put it on his porch or something woefully ridiculous like that. Whatever, man. Awkward!
naughty santa, my foot!
Amanda – SC
2 responses to “naughty santa, my foot!”
that’s like being told it’s a costume party when it isn’t
HA HA! Naughty gift exchange? At least you didn’t buy anything racy. That disaster was avoided, in any case.