It’s been a minute since my last post — life has been life-ing — but if I’m going to crawl back into Domestic Dramedy territory, it’s only right to do it with one of our most unhinged family traditions: The Ugly Christmas Gift Exchange. This annual chaos unfolds with Scott’s family — his sister Laura, her husband Jeff, and his mom, affectionately known as Momma Diana — and it’s proof that laughter really is the strongest glue holding families together.

Most families politely call this White Elephant or Dirty Santa. Not us. We don’t dress it up. We just say it out loud: Ugly Christmas.

All year long, we prepare like it’s an Olympic sport. Thrift stores. Facebook Marketplace. Temu. Amazon (because let’s be honest, you can’t Christmas without Amazon), and yes — Walmart, which consistently punches above its weight in the “why does this exist?” category. The goal is simple: find the funniest, most hideous, most confusing gift known to mankind.

My first year participating also included one of Scott’s aunts and uncles. Since Scott is a woodworker — owner of the Doing It Wrong Woodshop — we naturally decided to make gifts ourselves. We crafted spice racks that looked like a second grader had free access to power tools. Crooked. Splintered. Slightly dangerous. Nails were definitely sticking out where nails should not stick out. And yet… they were a hit. The laughter was uncontrollable.

That same year, I was gifted a very special family heirloom: a small piece of wood with the year handwritten on it. Apparently, this thing has been passed around for years. I proudly passed it along to Laura this past Christmas. Congratulations, favorite child.

Scott, however, once received something far more traumatizing: a porcelain doll. Not a sweet one. Nightmare fuel. Curly hair, long puffy dress, and unblinking eyes that absolutely followed you around the room. That thing lived on our spare fridge for a full year, silently judging our life choices.

Last Christmas, we gifted the doll to Jeff. He thought he was clever and “forgot” it at Momma Diana’s house. What Jeff did not realize was that the doll was simply… relocating.

On our way home, Scott insisted on a detour. We parked across the street from Laura and Jeff’s house. Scott sprinted across the road like a deranged raccoon, placed the doll on their porch, stared straight into their Ring doorbell, and whispered in the creepiest voice possible, “She belongs to you…” before running away laughing like a horror-movie villain.

The next day, a neighbor eagerly told Laura, “Some lunatic left a doll on your porch last night.” We still watch that Ring footage and laugh until we cry.

Honestly, this kind of chaos feels a lot like the Sunday we spent after church moving 800 pavers in the blazing heat — sweat, eye rolls, and a teenager convinced child labor laws were being broken. Different season, same Domestic Dramedy.

Over the years, Ugly Christmas has delivered some true masterpieces:

An innocent-looking snail with teeth (it still sits on my TV stand — we call it a conversation piece)

Trump toilet brushes

Oversized, slightly used bras (this should be illegal)

Rhinestone platform shoes capable of breaking ankles, necks, or spirits

Toilet-shaped coffee mugs

But this past Christmas? This one mattered more.

This year, Spencer was officially introduced to the Gray family’s Ugly Christmas tradition.

Scott took him shopping for me, and in true Spencer fashion, he wanted absolutely no part of it. He wanted to stay home and play Roblox. Scott said, “Just humor me for a few minutes,” and off to the thrift store they went.

At first, Spencer was trying to find me something nice. Scott had to stop him and explain the rules. The assignment. The art form. Once Spencer understood what was expected of him… it was game on.

Christmas morning, Spencer handed me two gifts with the strangest little smile on his face. I opened the first one and froze. It was a hideous doll. Truly awful. I looked at Spencer, who looked incredibly proud, and had a full internal crisis. Do I say thank you? Do I say what on earth is this? Do I protect his feelings?

I was suspended in that moment until the laughter started.

Sweet relief. The relief on my face must have been obvious, because the laughing only got louder.

Then came the second gift. A single. Old. Water sprinkler.

That’s when I knew. Spencer had been fully indoctrinated. Ugly Christmas had claimed another victim.

And honestly? I couldn’t be happier.

✨ Faith Spin
Laughter is holy. “A cheerful heart is good medicine” (Proverbs 17:22), and God knows we need it in family life — especially in blended families, messy traditions, and moments that don’t look picture-perfect. Sometimes love shows up as a haunted doll, a broken sprinkler, and laughing until you cry on Christmas morning.

Ugly Christmas is no longer just Scott’s family tradition. It’s ours now — the three of us. And I wouldn’t trade it for the prettiest gift under the tree

We Don’t Do White Elephant — We Do Ugly Christmas (A Family Gift Exchange Gone Unhinged), a Domestic Dramedy

Domestic Dramedy: Family Bonding, Sweat, and 800 Pavers: The Great Backyard Project