Times your parents bought you the wrong things...
Discussion
I was just chatting to a mate about the NFL and it brought back a childhood memory that made me chuckle. I remember asking my mum to buy me a Chicago Bulls baseball cap during my impressionable teenage years. I was quite excited when she came home from town and said she'd got me the cap...
When I looked in the bag and found not a Chicago Bulls cap but in fact a Chicago Bears cap, a team I had never even heard of at that point, I was a bit dumbstruck. My complaints weren't well received
She was a classic my mum. I actually found one of the winning wrappers when Snickers were giving away 1000 pairs of Adidas Predators a few years earlier. You had to find the wrapper with the picture of the boot printed inside it as well as four different footballers. I needed the last player and bought a load of bars, got the one I needed, went to put it with the rest only to find my dear old mum had binned them and the bins had been taken the day before
Anyone else have any amusing tales of parental failures?
When I looked in the bag and found not a Chicago Bulls cap but in fact a Chicago Bears cap, a team I had never even heard of at that point, I was a bit dumbstruck. My complaints weren't well received
She was a classic my mum. I actually found one of the winning wrappers when Snickers were giving away 1000 pairs of Adidas Predators a few years earlier. You had to find the wrapper with the picture of the boot printed inside it as well as four different footballers. I needed the last player and bought a load of bars, got the one I needed, went to put it with the rest only to find my dear old mum had binned them and the bins had been taken the day before
Anyone else have any amusing tales of parental failures?
No bought but on the parental failures list my Mum tells the story of the phone call she got from the station one night.
"Hi, been at the station nearly 45 minutes now, are you on your way soon?"
"Sorry, who is this?"
"It's me your son Rude-boy. You might remember me from about 14 years ago when you gave birth to me, or even possibly from this morning when you dropped me off and said you pick me up tonight about 5pm, and it's now 5:45..."
"Ah. Opps. I'll be on my way in a minute..."
There were a number of occasions when i just walked home as i realised that it would be easier.
The perils of having a family business run from home!
"Hi, been at the station nearly 45 minutes now, are you on your way soon?"
"Sorry, who is this?"
"It's me your son Rude-boy. You might remember me from about 14 years ago when you gave birth to me, or even possibly from this morning when you dropped me off and said you pick me up tonight about 5pm, and it's now 5:45..."
"Ah. Opps. I'll be on my way in a minute..."
There were a number of occasions when i just walked home as i realised that it would be easier.
The perils of having a family business run from home!
When I was 15, I was having one of those discussions about toys I always wanted and never got as a kid. Mr Frosty came up and eventually I made the ill advised comment that as a kid, I never had a train set.
Fast forward to Xmas and there it is, a Hornby electric train set. I was stunned. My mates turned up with their new Rayleigh racing bikes and Hi-Tec trainers to see what I got and here's me with a kids train set. My mother has always missed the mark when it comes to gifts but this was a step beyond normal
Fast forward to Xmas and there it is, a Hornby electric train set. I was stunned. My mates turned up with their new Rayleigh racing bikes and Hi-Tec trainers to see what I got and here's me with a kids train set. My mother has always missed the mark when it comes to gifts but this was a step beyond normal
On a Saturday afternoon my brother and I had to be picked up from school.
My parents were rarely less than an hour late as 'they forgot'. Every time, for five and a half years, until we learnt to drive (we grew up in the sticks, it was 8 miles to school, there was no public transport)
My parents were rarely less than an hour late as 'they forgot'. Every time, for five and a half years, until we learnt to drive (we grew up in the sticks, it was 8 miles to school, there was no public transport)
CubanPete said:
On a Saturday afternoon my brother and I had to be picked up from school.
My parents were rarely less than an hour late as 'they forgot'. Every time, for five and a half years, until we learnt to drive (we grew up in the sticks, it was 8 miles to school, there was no public transport)
So what was wrong with what they bought you?My parents were rarely less than an hour late as 'they forgot'. Every time, for five and a half years, until we learnt to drive (we grew up in the sticks, it was 8 miles to school, there was no public transport)
One Christmas (It was 1992 and I was eleven at the time) I had told everyone in the family that all I wanted was a mountain bike.
I had spent the previous couple of years on my brother's hand-me-down Falcon BMX and all my mates had got mountain bikes. I said to my parents in the blunt style of which eleven-year-old boys are the masters that I really wouldn't mind if I got nothing else that year as long as I got a mountain bike. No selection boxes, no Chocolate Orange, no jigsaws, jumpers, toy cars, socks or pyjamas. No book tokens or Our Price Records gift vouchers from the extended family or that woman we call auntie because mum went to school with her and we sometimes see her working in WH Smith in the Frenchgate Centre. Pool resources if you need to. All I want is a mountain bike. That Raleigh Activator we saw in town would be perfect.
Come Christmas morning I was somewhat bowled over on walking, bleary-eyed into the front room. As usual there was a sack full of small gifts; tubes of Smarties, bags of marbles, books and the usual ephemera. I tore through the wrapping in record time with as much fake enthusiasm as I could muster as I worked through to the huge gift-wrapped box at the bottom. A slightly odd cuboid sort of shape; my bike must've had it handlebars turned round for packing into the box to make it easier to wrap.
Finally I'd got through the sack of toys and came to attack the wrapping on my new mountain bike. Would it be the Raleigh Activator or couldn't my family afford the £200 price tag? I wouldn't really mind, after all I'd still have something that could keep up with my mates on our regular trips to the "dippers" (a dried-up mud storm drain in the woods which served as a kind of half-pipe).
As I tore the wrapping off the box, I saw that an old MFI desk box had been re-purposed as packaging to make the bike easier to wrap. But wow; this was really heavy. And made of wood with black ash veneer. Ha ha... how I laughed as I realised that the box actually contained a desk which my dad said he thought I'd like as I needed somewhere to do my homework. "Go on then, where is it?" said I.
Mum glanced at Dad with a look that could've turned him to stone. Dad shuffled uneasily on the velour sofa. My eyes began to glisten. "Where's my bike?," I squeaked as I choked back the tears.
Mum fixed Dad with a piercing stare. "I told you this would happen." she said.
Events following that are somewhat hazy but I do vividly recall uttering the words "You've ruined my Christmas" before heading upstairs to sulk.
Six months later I got a brand new mountain bike for my birthday. That Raleigh Activator that I'd had my eye on...
I had spent the previous couple of years on my brother's hand-me-down Falcon BMX and all my mates had got mountain bikes. I said to my parents in the blunt style of which eleven-year-old boys are the masters that I really wouldn't mind if I got nothing else that year as long as I got a mountain bike. No selection boxes, no Chocolate Orange, no jigsaws, jumpers, toy cars, socks or pyjamas. No book tokens or Our Price Records gift vouchers from the extended family or that woman we call auntie because mum went to school with her and we sometimes see her working in WH Smith in the Frenchgate Centre. Pool resources if you need to. All I want is a mountain bike. That Raleigh Activator we saw in town would be perfect.
Come Christmas morning I was somewhat bowled over on walking, bleary-eyed into the front room. As usual there was a sack full of small gifts; tubes of Smarties, bags of marbles, books and the usual ephemera. I tore through the wrapping in record time with as much fake enthusiasm as I could muster as I worked through to the huge gift-wrapped box at the bottom. A slightly odd cuboid sort of shape; my bike must've had it handlebars turned round for packing into the box to make it easier to wrap.
Finally I'd got through the sack of toys and came to attack the wrapping on my new mountain bike. Would it be the Raleigh Activator or couldn't my family afford the £200 price tag? I wouldn't really mind, after all I'd still have something that could keep up with my mates on our regular trips to the "dippers" (a dried-up mud storm drain in the woods which served as a kind of half-pipe).
As I tore the wrapping off the box, I saw that an old MFI desk box had been re-purposed as packaging to make the bike easier to wrap. But wow; this was really heavy. And made of wood with black ash veneer. Ha ha... how I laughed as I realised that the box actually contained a desk which my dad said he thought I'd like as I needed somewhere to do my homework. "Go on then, where is it?" said I.
Mum glanced at Dad with a look that could've turned him to stone. Dad shuffled uneasily on the velour sofa. My eyes began to glisten. "Where's my bike?," I squeaked as I choked back the tears.
Mum fixed Dad with a piercing stare. "I told you this would happen." she said.
Events following that are somewhat hazy but I do vividly recall uttering the words "You've ruined my Christmas" before heading upstairs to sulk.
Six months later I got a brand new mountain bike for my birthday. That Raleigh Activator that I'd had my eye on...
DRFC1879 said:
One Christmas (It was 1992 and I was eleven at the time) I had told everyone in the family that all I wanted was a mountain bike.
I had spent the previous couple of years on my brother's hand-me-down Falcon BMX and all my mates had got mountain bikes. I said to my parents in the blunt style of which eleven-year-old boys are the masters that I really wouldn't mind if I got nothing else that year as long as I got a mountain bike. No selection boxes, no Chocolate Orange, no jigsaws, jumpers, toy cars, socks or pyjamas. No book tokens or Our Price Records gift vouchers from the extended family or that woman we call auntie because mum went to school with her and we sometimes see her working in WH Smith in the Frenchgate Centre. Pool resources if you need to. All I want is a mountain bike. That Raleigh Activator we saw in town would be perfect.
Come Christmas morning I was somewhat bowled over on walking, bleary-eyed into the front room. As usual there was a sack full of small gifts; tubes of Smarties, bags of marbles, books and the usual ephemera. I tore through the wrapping in record time with as much fake enthusiasm as I could muster as I worked through to the huge gift-wrapped box at the bottom. A slightly odd cuboid sort of shape; my bike must've had it handlebars turned round for packing into the box to make it easier to wrap.
Finally I'd got through the sack of toys and came to attack the wrapping on my new mountain bike. Would it be the Raleigh Activator or couldn't my family afford the £200 price tag? I wouldn't really mind, after all I'd still have something that could keep up with my mates on our regular trips to the "dippers" (a dried-up mud storm drain in the woods which served as a kind of half-pipe).
As I tore the wrapping off the box, I saw that an old MFI desk box had been re-purposed as packaging to make the bike easier to wrap. But wow; this was really heavy. And made of wood with black ash veneer. Ha ha... how I laughed as I realised that the box actually contained a desk which my dad said he thought I'd like as I needed somewhere to do my homework. "Go on then, where is it?" said I.
Mum glanced at Dad with a look that could've turned him to stone. Dad shuffled uneasily on the velour sofa. My eyes began to glisten. "Where's my bike?," I squeaked as I choked back the tears.
Mum fixed Dad with a piercing stare. "I told you this would happen." she said.
Events following that are somewhat hazy but I do vividly recall uttering the words "You've ruined my Christmas" before heading upstairs to sulk.
Six months later I got a brand new mountain bike for my birthday. That Raleigh Activator that I'd had my eye on...
Ha, some good ones so far but that's brilliant! That moment when it hits you that you've been utterly failed.... I had spent the previous couple of years on my brother's hand-me-down Falcon BMX and all my mates had got mountain bikes. I said to my parents in the blunt style of which eleven-year-old boys are the masters that I really wouldn't mind if I got nothing else that year as long as I got a mountain bike. No selection boxes, no Chocolate Orange, no jigsaws, jumpers, toy cars, socks or pyjamas. No book tokens or Our Price Records gift vouchers from the extended family or that woman we call auntie because mum went to school with her and we sometimes see her working in WH Smith in the Frenchgate Centre. Pool resources if you need to. All I want is a mountain bike. That Raleigh Activator we saw in town would be perfect.
Come Christmas morning I was somewhat bowled over on walking, bleary-eyed into the front room. As usual there was a sack full of small gifts; tubes of Smarties, bags of marbles, books and the usual ephemera. I tore through the wrapping in record time with as much fake enthusiasm as I could muster as I worked through to the huge gift-wrapped box at the bottom. A slightly odd cuboid sort of shape; my bike must've had it handlebars turned round for packing into the box to make it easier to wrap.
Finally I'd got through the sack of toys and came to attack the wrapping on my new mountain bike. Would it be the Raleigh Activator or couldn't my family afford the £200 price tag? I wouldn't really mind, after all I'd still have something that could keep up with my mates on our regular trips to the "dippers" (a dried-up mud storm drain in the woods which served as a kind of half-pipe).
As I tore the wrapping off the box, I saw that an old MFI desk box had been re-purposed as packaging to make the bike easier to wrap. But wow; this was really heavy. And made of wood with black ash veneer. Ha ha... how I laughed as I realised that the box actually contained a desk which my dad said he thought I'd like as I needed somewhere to do my homework. "Go on then, where is it?" said I.
Mum glanced at Dad with a look that could've turned him to stone. Dad shuffled uneasily on the velour sofa. My eyes began to glisten. "Where's my bike?," I squeaked as I choked back the tears.
Mum fixed Dad with a piercing stare. "I told you this would happen." she said.
Events following that are somewhat hazy but I do vividly recall uttering the words "You've ruined my Christmas" before heading upstairs to sulk.
Six months later I got a brand new mountain bike for my birthday. That Raleigh Activator that I'd had my eye on...
I bet your dad felt terrible though!
Come the following Winter as I sat down to watch the Bobsleigh at the Lillehammer Winter Olympics on BBC2 my parents turned off the telly to inform my brother and I that they were getting divorced. It wasn't exactly up there with Leicester winning the Premier League in "great shocks of my lifetime."
DRFC1879 said:
One Christmas (It was 1992 and I was eleven at the time) I had told everyone in the family that all I wanted was a mountain bike.
I had spent the previous couple of years on my brother's hand-me-down Falcon BMX and all my mates had got mountain bikes. I said to my parents in the blunt style of which eleven-year-old boys are the masters that I really wouldn't mind if I got nothing else that year as long as I got a mountain bike. No selection boxes, no Chocolate Orange, no jigsaws, jumpers, toy cars, socks or pyjamas. No book tokens or Our Price Records gift vouchers from the extended family or that woman we call auntie because mum went to school with her and we sometimes see her working in WH Smith in the Frenchgate Centre. Pool resources if you need to. All I want is a mountain bike. That Raleigh Activator we saw in town would be perfect.
Come Christmas morning I was somewhat bowled over on walking, bleary-eyed into the front room. As usual there was a sack full of small gifts; tubes of Smarties, bags of marbles, books and the usual ephemera. I tore through the wrapping in record time with as much fake enthusiasm as I could muster as I worked through to the huge gift-wrapped box at the bottom. A slightly odd cuboid sort of shape; my bike must've had it handlebars turned round for packing into the box to make it easier to wrap.
Finally I'd got through the sack of toys and came to attack the wrapping on my new mountain bike. Would it be the Raleigh Activator or couldn't my family afford the £200 price tag? I wouldn't really mind, after all I'd still have something that could keep up with my mates on our regular trips to the "dippers" (a dried-up mud storm drain in the woods which served as a kind of half-pipe).
As I tore the wrapping off the box, I saw that an old MFI desk box had been re-purposed as packaging to make the bike easier to wrap. But wow; this was really heavy. And made of wood with black ash veneer. Ha ha... how I laughed as I realised that the box actually contained a desk which my dad said he thought I'd like as I needed somewhere to do my homework. "Go on then, where is it?" said I.
Mum glanced at Dad with a look that could've turned him to stone. Dad shuffled uneasily on the velour sofa. My eyes began to glisten. "Where's my bike?," I squeaked as I choked back the tears.
Mum fixed Dad with a piercing stare. "I told you this would happen." she said.
Events following that are somewhat hazy but I do vividly recall uttering the words "You've ruined my Christmas" before heading upstairs to sulk.
Six months later I got a brand new mountain bike for my birthday. That Raleigh Activator that I'd had my eye on...
On the subject of Raleigh bikes. I’m the kid who in 1981 when everyone had a Raleigh Chopper dashed downstairs to the bike shaped present and unwrapped a Raleigh Shopper. I would have preferred a desk. I had spent the previous couple of years on my brother's hand-me-down Falcon BMX and all my mates had got mountain bikes. I said to my parents in the blunt style of which eleven-year-old boys are the masters that I really wouldn't mind if I got nothing else that year as long as I got a mountain bike. No selection boxes, no Chocolate Orange, no jigsaws, jumpers, toy cars, socks or pyjamas. No book tokens or Our Price Records gift vouchers from the extended family or that woman we call auntie because mum went to school with her and we sometimes see her working in WH Smith in the Frenchgate Centre. Pool resources if you need to. All I want is a mountain bike. That Raleigh Activator we saw in town would be perfect.
Come Christmas morning I was somewhat bowled over on walking, bleary-eyed into the front room. As usual there was a sack full of small gifts; tubes of Smarties, bags of marbles, books and the usual ephemera. I tore through the wrapping in record time with as much fake enthusiasm as I could muster as I worked through to the huge gift-wrapped box at the bottom. A slightly odd cuboid sort of shape; my bike must've had it handlebars turned round for packing into the box to make it easier to wrap.
Finally I'd got through the sack of toys and came to attack the wrapping on my new mountain bike. Would it be the Raleigh Activator or couldn't my family afford the £200 price tag? I wouldn't really mind, after all I'd still have something that could keep up with my mates on our regular trips to the "dippers" (a dried-up mud storm drain in the woods which served as a kind of half-pipe).
As I tore the wrapping off the box, I saw that an old MFI desk box had been re-purposed as packaging to make the bike easier to wrap. But wow; this was really heavy. And made of wood with black ash veneer. Ha ha... how I laughed as I realised that the box actually contained a desk which my dad said he thought I'd like as I needed somewhere to do my homework. "Go on then, where is it?" said I.
Mum glanced at Dad with a look that could've turned him to stone. Dad shuffled uneasily on the velour sofa. My eyes began to glisten. "Where's my bike?," I squeaked as I choked back the tears.
Mum fixed Dad with a piercing stare. "I told you this would happen." she said.
Events following that are somewhat hazy but I do vividly recall uttering the words "You've ruined my Christmas" before heading upstairs to sulk.
Six months later I got a brand new mountain bike for my birthday. That Raleigh Activator that I'd had my eye on...
. Didn't take long for me to realise what i had was newer. DonkeyApple said:
DRFC1879 said:
One Christmas (It was 1992 and I was eleven at the time) I had told everyone in the family that all I wanted was a mountain bike.
I had spent the previous couple of years on my brother's hand-me-down Falcon BMX and all my mates had got mountain bikes. I said to my parents in the blunt style of which eleven-year-old boys are the masters that I really wouldn't mind if I got nothing else that year as long as I got a mountain bike. No selection boxes, no Chocolate Orange, no jigsaws, jumpers, toy cars, socks or pyjamas. No book tokens or Our Price Records gift vouchers from the extended family or that woman we call auntie because mum went to school with her and we sometimes see her working in WH Smith in the Frenchgate Centre. Pool resources if you need to. All I want is a mountain bike. That Raleigh Activator we saw in town would be perfect.
Come Christmas morning I was somewhat bowled over on walking, bleary-eyed into the front room. As usual there was a sack full of small gifts; tubes of Smarties, bags of marbles, books and the usual ephemera. I tore through the wrapping in record time with as much fake enthusiasm as I could muster as I worked through to the huge gift-wrapped box at the bottom. A slightly odd cuboid sort of shape; my bike must've had it handlebars turned round for packing into the box to make it easier to wrap.
Finally I'd got through the sack of toys and came to attack the wrapping on my new mountain bike. Would it be the Raleigh Activator or couldn't my family afford the £200 price tag? I wouldn't really mind, after all I'd still have something that could keep up with my mates on our regular trips to the "dippers" (a dried-up mud storm drain in the woods which served as a kind of half-pipe).
As I tore the wrapping off the box, I saw that an old MFI desk box had been re-purposed as packaging to make the bike easier to wrap. But wow; this was really heavy. And made of wood with black ash veneer. Ha ha... how I laughed as I realised that the box actually contained a desk which my dad said he thought I'd like as I needed somewhere to do my homework. "Go on then, where is it?" said I.
Mum glanced at Dad with a look that could've turned him to stone. Dad shuffled uneasily on the velour sofa. My eyes began to glisten. "Where's my bike?," I squeaked as I choked back the tears.
Mum fixed Dad with a piercing stare. "I told you this would happen." she said.
Events following that are somewhat hazy but I do vividly recall uttering the words "You've ruined my Christmas" before heading upstairs to sulk.
Six months later I got a brand new mountain bike for my birthday. That Raleigh Activator that I'd had my eye on...
On the subject of Raleigh bikes. I’m the kid who in 1981 when everyone had a Raleigh Chopper dashed downstairs to the bike shaped present and unwrapped a Raleigh Shopper. I would have preferred a desk. I had spent the previous couple of years on my brother's hand-me-down Falcon BMX and all my mates had got mountain bikes. I said to my parents in the blunt style of which eleven-year-old boys are the masters that I really wouldn't mind if I got nothing else that year as long as I got a mountain bike. No selection boxes, no Chocolate Orange, no jigsaws, jumpers, toy cars, socks or pyjamas. No book tokens or Our Price Records gift vouchers from the extended family or that woman we call auntie because mum went to school with her and we sometimes see her working in WH Smith in the Frenchgate Centre. Pool resources if you need to. All I want is a mountain bike. That Raleigh Activator we saw in town would be perfect.
Come Christmas morning I was somewhat bowled over on walking, bleary-eyed into the front room. As usual there was a sack full of small gifts; tubes of Smarties, bags of marbles, books and the usual ephemera. I tore through the wrapping in record time with as much fake enthusiasm as I could muster as I worked through to the huge gift-wrapped box at the bottom. A slightly odd cuboid sort of shape; my bike must've had it handlebars turned round for packing into the box to make it easier to wrap.
Finally I'd got through the sack of toys and came to attack the wrapping on my new mountain bike. Would it be the Raleigh Activator or couldn't my family afford the £200 price tag? I wouldn't really mind, after all I'd still have something that could keep up with my mates on our regular trips to the "dippers" (a dried-up mud storm drain in the woods which served as a kind of half-pipe).
As I tore the wrapping off the box, I saw that an old MFI desk box had been re-purposed as packaging to make the bike easier to wrap. But wow; this was really heavy. And made of wood with black ash veneer. Ha ha... how I laughed as I realised that the box actually contained a desk which my dad said he thought I'd like as I needed somewhere to do my homework. "Go on then, where is it?" said I.
Mum glanced at Dad with a look that could've turned him to stone. Dad shuffled uneasily on the velour sofa. My eyes began to glisten. "Where's my bike?," I squeaked as I choked back the tears.
Mum fixed Dad with a piercing stare. "I told you this would happen." she said.
Events following that are somewhat hazy but I do vividly recall uttering the words "You've ruined my Christmas" before heading upstairs to sulk.
Six months later I got a brand new mountain bike for my birthday. That Raleigh Activator that I'd had my eye on...
A good few years ago, I made an ill advised throw away comment to my mum & dad that I was quite liking the trouser presses in the hotels I was using for my new job.
Round comes Christmas & lo & behold, a shiny new Corby, all wrapped up. I dragged that f
king thing from house to house for ten years before eventually palming it off on the charity. Appreciate the thought, but who in their right mind writes to Santa for a Corby trouser press?
Round comes Christmas & lo & behold, a shiny new Corby, all wrapped up. I dragged that f
king thing from house to house for ten years before eventually palming it off on the charity. Appreciate the thought, but who in their right mind writes to Santa for a Corby trouser press? My blue Raleigh Chopper from my Father in 1971, for my 11th birthday, was, probably, the most wonderful gift I ever had. When I was 26 I was, for some reason, in his bad books around Christmas time. His 'gift' to me was the free digital watch one received from Readers Digest upon renewal of the magazine prescription. I am a lover of fine watches and this wasn't his best offering! I just thought he was a complete knob. Better have nothing really. He was good at showing his disappointment. 
My cousins daughter who we babysat every week wanted a certain barbie. It was about £30. Shes one of those children that never ask for anything very polite a lovely girl but was so excited about getting this barbie of santa.
Come christmas day opens her presents and no barbie so a bit upset but didnt say anything out of politeness.
It got worse when after lunch the presents under the tree were being opened. My mum had got her a car and accessories for the barbie and her gran has also got her accessories and barbie stuff for the barbie she never had.
She was so upset yet wouldnt say anything so my mum took her out boxing day and got her the barbie.
Come christmas day opens her presents and no barbie so a bit upset but didnt say anything out of politeness.
It got worse when after lunch the presents under the tree were being opened. My mum had got her a car and accessories for the barbie and her gran has also got her accessories and barbie stuff for the barbie she never had.
She was so upset yet wouldnt say anything so my mum took her out boxing day and got her the barbie.
bazza white said:
My cousins daughter who we babysat every week wanted a certain barbie. It was about £30. Shes one of those children that never ask for anything very polite a lovely girl but was so excited about getting this barbie of santa.
Without being that guy, I do think a single comma in that sentence would make all the difference. Gassing Station | The Lounge | Top of Page | What's New | My Stuff