Gawker.com had a contest for worst Christmas give giving or receiving stories, and my husband submitted a story. It made the top 10 worst stories, but wasn't nearly as bad as the "winner." Oprah's best friend Gayle read on Oprah's radio show (who knew that Oprah had a radio show?) the top stories, so my husband's story was read on national radio. He used a pseudonym, and he didn't know anything about it until later, but it's kinda fame. So here's my version of the story.
His great grandmother was well known for being cheap. Each year she ordered an Old Spice gift box, with a jar of Old Spice, which she would remove and give to her husband to use, and an Old Spice soap-on-a-rope. (For those too young to know about soap-on-a-rope, it was a bar of soap with a thick string attached for holding onto, I guess, although it always seemed strange to me.) She would wrap up the gift box, with half of the gift missing, and give it to some unlucky male relative. The running joke among other family members was "Who's going to get the soap-on-a-rope this year?" His great grandmother had died by the time that I entered the family, but my first Christmas in which we all exchanged gifts, I had the pleasure of being regifted one of the last soap-on-a-ropes. Everyone was quietly watching me open it, and when I did I was shocked but tried to be polite, while thinking "Who in the f**k gives soap-on-a-rope as a Christmas gift?" David told me the story and everyone, myself included, laughed. I put the soap away to give to the next male to enter the family, but after two cross country moves the soap was lost.
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