Everyone knows some gifts are off limits for little kids.

Anything that causes loud noise: drum sets, microphones, toys that play repetitive songs; you only give these gifts if you want to incur the wrath of exhausted parents.

But when parents antagonize you into giving gifts to their children, like this user’s stepfamily did, all bets are off!

Check out his hilarious revenge for yourself!

Mess with my Christmas? Pardon me as I ruin yours

This story starts a full year and a half before my plan came into effect.

Earlier in the year, my Dad quite sensibly suggested that with the size of our family Christmas party, we skip a generation with gifts to ease the financial strain as the extended family grew.

I was struggling with my business and athletic career and my wife (then GF) was working on her second masters degree, so I suggested names from a hat, but he wanted to spoil all his grandchildren.

I said fair enough, I’ll chip in for Oma’s cruise and buy gifts for my step-siblings, but don’t expect anything grand.

OP then gave us a quick rundown of the cast of characters at the Christmas party…

Me – 28 year old heavyweight mixed martial artist and strength coach AKA small time athlete working a day job to barely make rent in addition to training full time.

Martha – Stepsister – 40ish, an aging mombie who’s only assets are starting to sag too much for them to be assets anymore,

Jane – My Niece 12, Stepsister’s Daughter, imagine the most vapid tweenager stereotype you can and multiply it by 1000

Tim – My Oldest Nephew 9, Stepsister’s Son, living proof that you’re never to young to be a jerk

Robert – Stepbrother – 36 Formerly cool dude who gave up on life when his kids were born

Tammy – 6 Bro’s daughter – Sweet and shy girl, terrified by my mere presence, the wisest of the bunch IMHO

Bubba – 7 Bro’s son – A generally nice kid who at this time was partway into evolving into a jerk.

All those puzzle pieces come together to make one big happy family! Right?

Tammy has brought a Nintendo DS and all the kids are struggling to play it together, so I foolishly offer to loan them mine.

Having stupidly deprived myself of my means to escape social obligations, I go to acquire that much older means: alcohol.

Not even having had time to pour a dram, my trained ear picks up the unmistakable sound of one human pummeling another.

I politely suggest to Robert that he might want to go have a look, but Bro waves it off and I go to investigate.

And what OP found would rival the MMA gym he trained at!

I walk in to see that Tim may be a jerk, but is not untalented.

He is managing to strike, shove into a wall and kick Bubba all at the same time, all while attempting to play my DS with his other hand, having decided his turn began the moment I left the room.

Jane has simply wrested the DS from Tammy, who is now sitting in the corner crying.

I shout for Martha, informing her that if she doesn’t break things up, I would have a stern conversation with them.

But justice didn’t exactly shake out the way OP had expected.

Instead of giving Tim a lesson on sharing and not hitting people, she proceeds to berate Bubba (the kid who was beaten) for not simply giving up the DS to her little piece of shit and making her son look bad.

Jane simply lets out a tweenage sigh for the ages, and tosses the other DS to the crying Tammy.

I then excuse myself from the party, thanking the universe that I don’t have to provide gifts for any of those little idiots.

Flash forward 6 months…

6 Months later, Bro calls me and this conversation ensues.

Robert – Hey OP, while I really appreciated the gifts last year, you should really get something for the kids this year instead, Christmas is all about the chiiiillllllllllldrrreeeeen after all.

Me – No, I turn up to chat with you and dad and Oma, I really don’t give two craps about the kids.

Robert – That’s a mean thing to say about my kids, don’t you care about them?

Me – You cared about them so much that at the last party, you refused to break up a fight where your son was beaten bloody.

But Robert had a convenient excuse for that, of course…

Robert – Tim is a good kid, Martha said he just had a bad day.

Me – He was literally beating your child. You didn’t put pics on social media for a week because of the bruises.

If Tim were an adult and had that kind of bad day, I’d have had a stern conversation with him and convinced him peacefully to lay on the floor until the police arrived.

Robert – Well Stepsis and I were talking and we think you should buy stuff for the kids next year instead of us.

Judging from OP’s loving and cherishing tone describing his nieces and nephews, how do you think he responded?

Me – Well I’m happy not to buy you anything.

But I’m certainly not getting crap for the Martha’s brats, especially when she encourages that behavior.

Robert – Well if you aren’t going to get something for all the kids, you shouldn’t get anything at all.

It’s not right if you don’t treat them equally.

Me – Done.

And here’s where things get juicy!

A few months later, about 2 weeks before xmas, I get an email form my dad with links to various toys.

When I call him back to ask what that’s all about, this conversation ensues.

Me: Hey whatsup? I got your email, what’s that all about

Dad: Those are gifts for the kids for Christmas.

Me: That’s cool if you’re getting them that, I’ll see them when the kids open them.

Dad: No that’s for you to get them

Me: I don’t buy for that generation remember? And I already sent you my contribution to Oma’s cruise

Dad: You need to get stuff for the kids, don’t you want them to look up to you as an uncle?

OP decidedly did not care about them looking up to him…

Me: Not really. Also what part of my life suggests to you that they ought to look up to me as any sort of role model?

You’d be better of telling them to grow up to be rockstars.

Dad: Not the point, christmas is about the chiiiiiiiiilllldreeeeennnnnnn.

If you don’t get them this stuff, I won’t put your name on the card for Oma.

Me: That’s a messed up thing to do, considering I already paid into that.

Now OP was in a tough spot…

Dad: Will you get the stuff or not?

Me: Well guess my name isn’t going on the card then.

This will cost me more than a month’s rent, so you can take this list and grease it up real nice…

Dad (Interrupting): Calm your jets, this is what they want.

Me: I’ll get them a token something but I’m not taking out a loan.

Dad: Fine, just make it something they enjoy

Me: If what I get doesn’t put a giant smile on each and every one of their faces, I’ll buy you dinner at a steakhouse of your choosing.

Dad: That’s the spirit, talk to you later.

And smile those little brats would, but their parents? Not so much!

So, Christmas rolls around and my wife and I have bought not just 1, but 4 gifts for each of the little ones.

My dad (correctly) assumes its all probably from the dollar store, but it’s nicely wrapped and he gives me a look of approval.

My wife and I suggest that since the kids have several gifts from us, they open one each before dinner for something to do.

Their parents agree as it gives them more of a reason to ignore their kids, so they send us off to hand out gifts to their kids.

Little did the parents know they were about to regret not only making OP give gifts, but all of their life choices up until this moment!

As they begin to unwrap, I prepare the camera as my wife goes for our coats, sticking around just long enough to immortalize on film the big shit-eating grin on each of the kids faces as they see what their gift is.

The first blast from the airhorn (Tim’s gift) can be heard in the hallway clearly by my wife and I as we make for the elevator.

I have no idea how much of the bulk pack of silly string (Tammy’s gift) or the 36 rainbow pack of off brand sharpies (Bubba’s gift) ended up on he walls, but I do know they repainted the place the next month.

Whether or not the slap on bracelets we got for Jane ended up on the wrists and legs of the parents as they tried to contain the other three will be left to the imagination, but I like to think they all ended up in the height of 80’s fashion before boxing day.

But the cherry on top was the note OP left for the parents!

I may never know if they opened the rest of their presents.

Everyone got a copy of each of the other’s gifts, you know, for fairness, plus a bunch of gross  temporary tattoos.

In the confusion none of them noticed either me or my wife leaving.

I’m certain at some point they did notice the pretty gold envelope addressed to “The Parents” on the tree.

Inside was a very pretty card, blank but for the following note:

“This was a warning shot from off the top of my head, I’ve got a whole year to get creative for next time. Merry Christmas, E.”

Safe to say OP never had to give those kids gifts ever again!

I never bought anyone steak dinner, however I enjoyed several more Christmas’s with my Oma and Dad until they passed.

No mention of this incident, or gifts for the kids was ever made again.

I find that hard to believe, that would be the most legendary Christmas my family had ever had!

You wouldn’t be able to mention Christmas without someone bringing up silly spray, or rainbow sharpies, or making an air horn noise!

Reddit absolutely loved his revenge, with many taking inspiration from his petty genius.

This user was reminded of a restaurant she had heard of in Georgia.

Many parents relived their own chaotic gifting mistakes!

However the overwhelming response was giving OP more ideas for his malicious compliance!

Finally, this user espoused the chaotic power of glitter!

Well, at least those bratty kids had an amazing Christmas!

The holidays are about the “chilllldddreeennnn”, after all!

If you liked that post, check this one about a guy who got revenge on his condo by making his own Christmas light rules.