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?
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!
Some good stories, very entertaining 
I feel for you Ari, that's properly mean. Strangely, I now work with a bloke in his late forties whose father is like that. He needed a car quickly as the head gasket went on his old A4, (not unreasonable after 220k miles!) and so he ended up buying a piece of crap Astra estate on the cheap. When he brought this car to work the next day and I went to get in it at lunchtime, the smell of wet dog nearly knocked me out it hit me that hard when I opened the door
When he got home that evening his old man started on about how he had got him £5k out of the bank for him to borrow to buy a decent motor.
There was no £5k. It's just the sort of thing he does apparently. As if it isn't bad enough for him being back at "home" after the break up of his marriage!
I feel for you Ari, that's properly mean. Strangely, I now work with a bloke in his late forties whose father is like that. He needed a car quickly as the head gasket went on his old A4, (not unreasonable after 220k miles!) and so he ended up buying a piece of crap Astra estate on the cheap. When he brought this car to work the next day and I went to get in it at lunchtime, the smell of wet dog nearly knocked me out it hit me that hard when I opened the door
When he got home that evening his old man started on about how he had got him £5k out of the bank for him to borrow to buy a decent motor.
There was no £5k. It's just the sort of thing he does apparently. As if it isn't bad enough for him being back at "home" after the break up of his marriage!
8Ace said:
Nothing like the above, but i do recall one of the early comic relief events where you could buy red noses. Everyone at school had the official charity red nose, with their lovely soft plastic for ease of putting on and off.
My parents thought that £2 for one was an extravagance, so I had to go in wearing a ping pong ball, with a section cut out of the side to put it on. It was coloured in with red marker pen.
Not only was it about half the size of the official ones (making it look like I had a cherry tomato stuck to my face), the section cut out of the side was roughly done and it felt like i was like wedging my nose between the blades of a pair of scissors. The marker pen had pretty much worn off by lunchtime.
I of course knew what was going to happen, and the combination of shame, anger, and bowel twisting anxiety as to what was about to happen when I entered the school is not one i'll forget.
My parents thought that £2 for one was an extravagance, so I had to go in wearing a ping pong ball, with a section cut out of the side to put it on. It was coloured in with red marker pen.
Not only was it about half the size of the official ones (making it look like I had a cherry tomato stuck to my face), the section cut out of the side was roughly done and it felt like i was like wedging my nose between the blades of a pair of scissors. The marker pen had pretty much worn off by lunchtime.
I of course knew what was going to happen, and the combination of shame, anger, and bowel twisting anxiety as to what was about to happen when I entered the school is not one i'll forget.
That's a corker! 
Jesus Ari.... most in your shoes would be bitter f
kers full of hate after living with a dad like that all their lives!
For what it's worth, I've always had a strained relationship with my old man. Usually fueled by him being pissed all weekend (the time he had me) every weekend when I was younger. I have very vivid memories of him and my ex-stepmother physically fighting whilst completely stfaced too... Luckily I somehow managed to process that without turning into one of those types of people as many seem to...
He seems to have calmed down a bit in the last few years, being 70 and all, but god I've had some rows with him over the years....
kers full of hate after living with a dad like that all their lives!For what it's worth, I've always had a strained relationship with my old man. Usually fueled by him being pissed all weekend (the time he had me) every weekend when I was younger. I have very vivid memories of him and my ex-stepmother physically fighting whilst completely s
tfaced too... Luckily I somehow managed to process that without turning into one of those types of people as many seem to...He seems to have calmed down a bit in the last few years, being 70 and all, but god I've had some rows with him over the years....
I've just remembered, I must have asked for an Amiga or similar at some point, because I too was saddled with a Dragon 32k! They are worth a fortune now, I believe. Who'd have thunk it?!
I had many pairs of Hi-Tecs too. As well as a few "brands" I can't even remember!
Oh to go back to those halcyon days where nothing important mattered...
I had many pairs of Hi-Tecs too. As well as a few "brands" I can't even remember!
Oh to go back to those halcyon days where nothing important mattered...
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