I got that Fantastic Four Big Little Book as a present (birthday? Christmas? Easter? can't remember), but I was so against Marvel that I traded it for another book--whether I traded it with my siblings (who also got BLBs, so Easter or Christmas seems more likely), I'm not sure--I don't think any of them would have wanted it, so maybe some other kind of horse trading was involved.
The three BLBs that I do retain are Batman, Dick Tracy and Woody Woodpecker all looking the worse for wear--because I enjoyed the heck out of them. The Woody Woodpecker one in particular--it was everything I've ever wanted in a story--and I think that's the one that I got to replace the FF. So if that's the case--and I'd like to believe it was--then it was worth it in the end.
However, if I had kept the FF book, it's probable that I would have barely touched it and it would still be in pristine condition now. So there you go. That seems to be the case with most of my books--the ones I loved suffered for my affection--while those I loathed are still dressed up like they're ready for Sunday school.
What bugs me is that no matter how old I get and how much I openly declare my love for certain comics over others, nobody in my family ever seems to take that in and I'm continuously getting useless Marvel gifts for Christmas and birthdays. It's like my family doesn't even know who I am.
[Not that I hate Marvel--just that I attach no sentimental value to Marvel mementos.]