When I talked about having no room in my apartment, they started sending furniture. First, they sent a copper-topped cafe table (useless for food because it left verdigris on everything) and a buffet table (difficult to move, hard to clean, a sliding expandable top that left a useless hold in the middle if it was expanded). When I told them at the beginning of every phone call for several months "don't send furniture, I have no room" (which was true), they stopped for a bit. It was a welcome relief.
Then they came to visit. My mother pointed out that there was a large empty spot in the middle of my living room ("empty", meaning no furniture was there). I pointed out that I used it for things like exercising, and that it was necessary if I wanted to walk through into the kitchen or to the porch. Naturally, before leaving, they bought me more furniture.
Specifically, they bought me an antique, uncomfortable, unpadded wooden swivel-chair. "Swivel" suggests something modern involving bearings, which is inaccurate. This chair used only bare wood and swiveled only grudgingly. It was hand-carved, and remarkably baroque (and ugly) in design. The first three people to see it immediately pointed out that it looked like it had been designed for bondage, so I now call it the bondage chair.
I cleaned the old stuff out of the shed awhile back, including setting aside some no-longer-desired furniture for donation to St Vincent DePaul (or Goodwill, whichever, but SVdP had more frequent pickup runs). Most specifically, though, this would allow me to finally get rid of the bondage chair.
They left it sitting there. It's still on my driveway. They included it on the receipt for items they took away. They took everything sitting next to it. They even disassembled it into two pieces, such as one does to carry it places.
And then they left it sitting on my driveway.