Bel Says: The Unwanted Gift

Bel Says:

The last gift anyone actually wants.

Oh No! It’s Aunt Josephine coming towards you with a parcel in hand that looks suspiciously similar to the one she gave you last year.
Last year, she handed it to you, gave you a huge kiss on the cheek with her non kiss-off lipstick
(that–once it’s kissed off onto your cheek–will never, ever rub off) and… after that…breathed into your ear a very sherry-smelling yuletide greeting. Last year, you carefully snipped the ribbon, you gently prized away the sticky tape and revealed yet another of her creations. A hand-knitted Christmas jumper.
You were sobbing internally with complete terror because it was one of the most hideous things you had ever seen; but, externally, you bounced up and down in your chair and popped the horrid thing over your carefully styled hair. Much to your internal horror, every other person in the room ooh’s and ahh’s over how lifelike Rudolf looks. And just when you thought your humiliation couldn’t go beyond it’s current state, Josephine reaches over and flicks a hidden switch and the damn reindeer’s nose lights up. That sends the family into orbit with compliments. OMG NOOOOOOOO!!!!

So, once again, here you are with Aunt Jo coming towards you, her lips pursed ready for the unavoidable kiss on the cheek. The parcel lands in you lap and she wishes you a “vurrry murry kristmash.”
You’ve lost your nerve, so you forget about the dumb ribbon and the stupid paper and just tear the freaking thing open. You breathe a sigh of relief: it’s a white jumper she must have bought at the Kmart sales at the end of last winter. Thank the powers that be. No more stupid flashing bovine schnozzes.
You open it up, only to see Aunt Jo has moved from knitting to appliqué.  Oh joy!
Once again, you pull the rotten thing over your carefully styled hair and glare down at the puffed ribbon taking up the entire front of your (otherwise perfectly good) white Kmart jumper.
You tell everyone you’re heading up to your room to look in your full length mirror and fly up those stairs quicker than greased lightning.
You rip the thing off the moment the door is closed and scream into a pillow. Slowly and carefully you put yourself back together. Put the freakish thing back over your head and fix your hair a little. You march back downstairs, and offer to get aunt Jo another drink. Conveniently, you tip the entire glass of red wine right down your front and hiss realistically as you apologies to Aunt Jo about both the glass of wine and the jumper. Internally, you’re doing cartwheels and rude gestures towards Aunt Jo. There are sounds of condolence coming from the family. But from her place at the stove, your mother gives you a little wink and tips the rest of the bottle of red wine down the sink.
At least this year when you doused the dastardly thing in wine you didn’t get an electric shock.
Here’s to all those poor buggers in places where it’s cold at Christmas. Happy crappy Christmas sweater day!!!!!