Done twice
Many years ago, I didn't get on with my little brother.

He was annoying, following me round if I had friends over, calling me pizza-face (something that I would do to him when the time came). Anyway, I didn't see why I should buy him a present at all. So I didn't. I found his present on a trip to my grandparents just before his birthday. It was perfect.

Come his birthday I carefully wrapped a shoe box in wrapping paper, filled it with ripped up newspaper, tied a ribbon around the present and placed it carefully in the box, covering it with more shreds.

I then posted it to him.

The morning of his birthday came round and the postie knocked on the door with his gift. I could barely contain my sniggering.

The box looked the business, and little Gwyndaff (for that is what we call him) gets all excited, tearing into it. He throws off the top, delves into the paper shreds and pulls out, wrapped in lovely red ribbon, a filthy piece of coal. Covering himself in coal dust.

Unfortunatley our mum didn't appreciate the gift and the mess it brought with it. I get a telling off and I'm made to buy him a "proper" present and to clean up. But it was all worth seeing his little, sparkling Birthday face collapse in confusion and disapointment.

Later in life. my nan told me that giving a piece of coal is a sign of love and caring for somenone, so that's the thankyou present he got when he was best man at my wedding.
( monkeyboyalpha jumping on the bandwagon since, Fri 27 Nov 2009, 9:20, Reply)