My word, Deb.

Wow...both of you. Still thinking about mine.

Too many from which to choose?

Kind of, unfortunately.

I took the coward's route, and went with someone else's story. It's a true story though, and there's much more going on than what is in those 100 words. It's part of one of my someday-this-will-be-a-series series of books.

Christmas:

Christmas at my husband’s grandparents was always a little awkward. My father in law was deferential in all things to both his parents. My mother-in-law was on eggshells as usual. A queer, fake smile plastered on her face.

My mother-in-law always opened her gift last. She usually only had one but smiled and politely unwrapped whatever they handed to her.

The brownish lump was vaguely squirrel shaped. The package said "Zoo Doo.” My mother-in-law continued smiling and said, "Thank you, June. It will be perfect for my garden."

Only, she didn't keep a garden. When I had time to take a closer look, I examined the package--the local zoo had created these packages as a fundraising project. Collecting dried dung from the animals and shaping them into other animals to sell as gag gifts.

I couldn't believe my mother-in-law's mother-in-law gave her shit for Christmas.

Oh my. True story or did you just let your imagination take off on the topic?

True story, sadly. Whenever I worry about my MiL, I think of what she's had to deal with for 35 years.

Oh man.

Mine is stolen from my friend Jen. She has also received a giant neon fleecy top, and the world's cheapest drugstore crack-whores-think-it's-tacky perfume from them.

Poor Jen