Next week, hundreds of thousands of Richmonders will gather around the tree on Christmas morning. We'll sip coffee, groggily exchange holiday greetings and pretend to patiently wait for the gift opening to begin.

Then finally, mercifully, we'll tear through boxes, bags and wrapping paper as though our very survival hinges on the contents inside.

We'll open books, socks, toys, collectibles for hobbies we've long-since outgrown and lots and lots of sweaters. If we're lucky we might open an ipod, a coveted gaming system or even a diamond accessory. But there's one gift that every last one of us is sure to receive: a bad one.

We've all been there. You open a promising looking box on Christmas morning only to find the most offensive-looking home accessory or article of clothing you can imagine. Your first instinct is to slam the box shut and fling it across the room. Your second extinct is to tear through in search of a gift receipt. Your third is to call a Do-over and demand that the gift-giver return the reasonable gift that you just gave to him/her.

But no, the gift is real and it's yours. Sadly, adults can't just burst into tears on Christmas morning over a bad gift. Plus, the person responsible is sitting right across from you with a face lit up like a Christmas tree and smile that just screams "You're welcome!"

The disappointment is crushing, but you only have to get through that moment with a convincing and emphatic "Thanks!" Then you can feign selflessness and cheerfully invite someone else to open a gift.

But Christmas morning isn't the end. That bad gift is yours now and, most likely, the gift-giver expects it immediately displayed in your home or on your person.

Now what?

Rational thought and childhood wisdom suggest that honesty is the best policy. In a Utopian society a polite, "Thanks but no thanks" or a simple, "It's really not my taste," would suffice. But bad gifts wouldn't exist in a Utopian society.

There are a few extenuating circumstances in which it's appropriate to request a receipt. If the gift comes from my mother, for example. She can sense the first hint of disappointment and refuses to rest until the gift is deemed sub-par and the recipient confesses his/her wish not to own it.

But, in our culture, lying is generally the best way to handle a bad gift. The only question is, for how long.

If the bad gift is clothes, accessories, books, CDs or movies, it's simple. You can lie once, say you love the item and then move on with your life. If you're lucky, you can figure out where the item was purchased and attempt to return it without a receipt. You'll likely get less than full-price, but something is better than nothing. Or you can just throw it in the re-gift pile; just be sure to attach a note to it to remember where it came from.

If the gift-giver ever inquires about the gift's welfare, you can just claim that you wore, read, listened to or otherwise enjoyed the gift on another occasion. It's simple.

Home accessories, however, are a whole other story. This is why, to me, it's a dangerous gift category. Few people change out their wall art the way one might change a sweater. Whatever print is hanging above your bed was likely there last year and will be there next year. The same goes for table centerpieces, knickknacks and accent pillows. These items were carefully selected, grouped and displayed on purpose.

I would like to note that I have received a handful of very thoughtful and tasteful home accessories as gifts. These are gifts that I am delighted to display in my home. I've received some pretty bad ones, too.

If you are the recipient of a bad home accessory, there is really only one polite way to handle it. The gift-giver must see it displayed in your home at least one time other than the day it was given.

I know, I know, to me it's a pretty cringe-worthy act. Not only is deceitful, but it also means you have to display something you probably think is horrendous. The good news, though, is that you only have to display it once and only for the duration of the gift-giver's visit. The next time you see him/her you can claim to be in the middle of redecorating. Then the gifted home accessory just never finds its way back out into your living space.

This is good news, since you'll need plenty of room to accept next year's round of bad gifts.

Hey, Richmond, what's the worst gift you've ever received? Tell us below in the comments section. All you need is your name, a comment and the answer to 2+2.