My worst Christmas ever was my first married Christmas. While I was doing all the shopping and preparing for Christmas my husband, Bobby, was BITCHING the whole time. He did nothing to help. He didn't lift a finger and whined incessantly about every penny that I spent. It didn't matter that much of the preparations were for his 11 year old twin daughters either.
I ignored him for the most part. Finally it got so bad that I was just plain miserable. Then Christmas came. We had a marvelous Christmas that was so good that my Scrooge of a husband had a most excellent time and I could see him beaming with pride at the wonderous Christmas I had created. Unfortunately he had made me so miserable that I just wanted to punch him in the face everytime I saw what a good time he was having.
The one bright spot was the special porcelain ornaments that my mom gifted us with that year that I still
have. Also, I got much joy from watching my stepdaughters squeal with delight with all their presents - including a now antiquated TRS-80 Radio Shack computer which was top of the line at the time.
Once the big day was over I informed him in no uncertain terms that if he EVER ruined another one of my Christmases I would divorce him on the spot! He knew I meant it. From then on out we had nothing but great Christmases and he fully and enthusiastically participated in each one.