My favorite author is Derek Landly though he has awesome books his sisters give him horrible Christmas presents here is a story of his Christmas presents written by him.
2008/2009
"""Ah, Christmas is coming, and the elves are wrapping the presents and the reindeer are being hooked up to the sleigh, and all is good with the world and I’m FREEZING.
What is wrong with my house? What is wrong with this world that I have to sit here and type while my poor feet grow steadily colder? My poor, poor feet. Have I ever told you how pretty my feet are? Oh they are pretty. Far and wide, people sing songs about my feet and their prettiness. Many a Foot Competition I have won because of these two beauties. And now look at them, shivering in my boots like two hairless ferrets in a bucket. A tragedy, I tell you.
My Christmas presents, I fear, will be somewhat lacking in size, quantity, and existence this year. My sisters announced last week that they would DO something, instead of BUY something. Last year they did the same, and I pointed to my rather drab downstairs bathroom and asked, “Can you brighten this up?”
I was expecting nothing more than a small table, maybe with a narrow vase atop a doily, some potpourri perhaps. You know, the silly things only truly odd people know how to arrange. They arrived over, surveyed the bathroom, spoke at length about nothing in particular, and left. They didn’t return. Eight months later I bought some potpourri myself, and now it sits, somewhat forlornly, in the sink.
So I was not altogether thrilled by the prospect of another “gift”. But both sisters are pregnant now, and my mother insists that they must be treated delicately. I reasoned that an entire room, no matter how small, was simply too much to ask for last year. So this time, I told them that all I need is a new curtain rail. One single curtain rail. That’s all. Just one.
A curtain rail. For Christmas.
They arrived over yesterday, surveyed the window in question, spoke at length about what it’s like to be pregnant, and left.
I rather fear that I shall never see this curtain rail. They didn’t even take any measurements, for Pete’s sake.
I knew they would be bad. I knew this would be a bleak year for gifts. I have told you, about my sisters and the whole “curtain rail” fiasco. It may please some of you to know that I did not, in fact, receive a curtain rail. They passed that particular idea to my mother, who has promised me she will sort out my curtain rail requirements over the coming weeks. Oh, my joy is boundless. So what, you may ask, did my sisters get me, in the end?
They assured me, as they took the wrapped present from beneath the Christmas tree and handed it over, that this is something I NEED. This is something my house LACKS. They implied, practically GUARANTEED, that my life will be better now that I have their Christmas gift. I was not thrilled by the softness of the present. It felt suspiciously like a sensible fleece, or a terrible woolly jumper (woolly sweater, for you Americans out there). I held my breath. I opened the gift.
Do you want to know what they gave me? Do you? Can you handle the shock? Can you with stand the AMAZEMENT?
My sisters had got me a bathmat. And matching towels.
I got towels for Christmas.
I pointed out the fact that I already HAD a bathmat. They said yes, but the new one can be a REPLACEMENT bathmat, for special occasions. Dear God, I thought, pregnancy has made both of my sisters quite insane. I backed away slowly, maintaining eye contact, keeping the bathmat and towels between us at all times. If they lunged, I reasoned, I could hurl the bathmat to distract them, and escape in the confusion. The towels would only be used as a last resort.
I can hear them still, their mad cackling..."""
Can't you see now I love his books!! Please comment!!
[copyrighted by Derek Landy Blog Under Duress]
