The drama begins with mashed po-fucking-tatos.

The BBQ Pit
1

This is probably going to be very lame. (Yeah, I know, now you don’t want to read it. Dammit. I knew I shouldn’t have typed that.) I just need to get this off my chest before it crushes me.

My sisters are idiots.

I have 4 sisters. Two of them are driving my entire family nuts with the drama. Fundie Sister has taken it upon herself to point out everything that she sees wrong in our lives. Beach Sister is pretty laid back, but recently has become the Mellodramatic Queen of Bullshit. In the past couple of years, she’s basically become the most over-sensitive person on the planet, and decided that she can’t talk to our family about anything because we’ll all judge her. (I can’t insert enough rolleyes here…)

About 5 years ago, FS called my mom to see what we were having for Christmas dinner. My mom, overworked and underpaid as a housewife, was preparing a HUGE meal, consisting of a turkey, a ham, numerous side dishes, homemade rolls, and a few desserts. FS says, 'well, are you making mashed potatoes? Because that’s all Spoiled Rotten Child has been talking about." My mom said, no, but if FS made them, my mom would make the gravy. FS replied “Tsk. I’m already making the green bean casserole!” (Which no one eats except for me and Innocent Sister.) She hangs up the phone.

Cut to one hour later. FS calls back, to explain how my mom has just broken Spoiled Child’s little heart, and how distraught he is over the fact that he’s not getting his mashed potatoes. My mother replies “oh, he’ll live.” (YAY, Mom!) FS becomes furious. I called her later, to try to resolve the situation, as my mother had called me practically having a breakdown about not preparing enough food. :rolleyes: (This was in mom’s pre-Paxil days.)

FS takes the opportunity to tell me that I am an evil little bitch, I am selfish, and I don’t care about anyone else. (Which, IRL, I don’t toot my own horn, but this is FAR from accurate. Email me about it if you wish.) I finally lose my cool, yell “LET HIM CHOKE ON THE MASHED PO-FUCKING-TATOS! FUCK YOU!”, and hang up the phone. We don’t speak for two years.

Well, now FS has it in for BS. BS is now taking care of Spoiled Child, as FS just can’t handle having a 19 year old kid around the house. Apparently, Spoiled Child got his eyebrow pierced last week, and FS has declared it the End Of the Fucking World[sup]TM[/sup]. Of course, BS must have taken Spoiled Child to get his eyebrow pierced, and paid for it, because Spoiled Child doesn’t have a job. (There’s a more likely possibility that some moronic friend probably did it, and within a month or two it’ll be gangrenous and generally icky.)

Now, FS and BS are not speaking, and BS called Innocent Sister the other day to tell her goodbye, that she’s severing contact with the rest of the family, because she just can’t take the drama any more.

What. The. FUCK. Can’t take the drama anymore? She’s the Susan Lucci of the family, for crissakes, and she CAN’T TAKE THE DRAMA ANYMORE? And FS needs to get her ass off her shoulders. She meeds to accept the fact that Spoiled Child is now 19, he will make his own stupid decisions, and she doesn’t have to worry about seeing him do it since she shipped him off.

Jesus Christ, will someone please write a soap opera about all this so I can cash in, and move to a tropical island?

2

Wait just one stinkin’ minute! Spoiled Rotten Child was around 14 when mama threw the mashed potato fit? Holy cow, I thought he was a 2-year-old in the picky food stage!

How’d you turn out normal?

(Mmmm…mashed potato craving, darn you, Skerri!)

3

Write ‘em all off. Find a new family. Enjoy.
(All that drama over mashed potatoes? Jumpin’ Jehosaphat, is that ever stupid. Your kid wants mashed potatoes so badly, bring mashed potatoes with you. Does she not know that mashed potatoes are potatoes, mashed? That’s all there is to it. Well, and a little butter and milk if you’re going to get fancy.)

4

A teenager who is “heartbroken” over a lack of mashed potatoes is going to be a prime candidate for lots of future sorrow.

[Mr. T]

I pity da fool!

[/Mr. T]

5

So why didn’t you make some mashed potatoes and prevent this whole catastrophe? :wink:

Just kidding, don’t hit me!

I think you are officially entitled to cash your family in for a newer, saner one. Anyone who says “mashed po-fucking-tatoes” is way too cool for that crazy family!

6

Of course, bear in mind we only have FS’ word on the mashed potato obsession.

7

FS has a hysterical personality disorder. Truth becomes subservient to becoming the center of attention. I’ll bet all I own that Spoiled Child didn’t have a clue about whether there’d be mashed potatoes for dinner, and didn’t care.

But of course, you didn’t need me to diagnose a mental illness if someone disowns their family over the want of mashed potatoes.

8

Sis? :dubious:

Lord love a duck, you just described my family! In my case, I’m not quite the innocent sister, but not the drama freak either. I simply caused all sorts of ruckus by loudly proclaiming I’m not going to carry the party line and pretend anymore.

Calling my evil manipulative money-borrowing freakshow sister a cunt? You’d have thought I told them all I was marrying an African muslim lesbian who hates guns.
Criticize the mating choices of the perma-victim sibling? How dare I!
Wondering if the single mother of 4 teenagers should perhaps pay her rent rather than purchase a Harley? How judgemental of me and non-supportive! I am supportive, who do you think bought the kids school clothes?!

I love my parents, after about 3 years of friction they finally gave up on changing my mind and actually find other things to discuss with me than my siblings. Just because they’re your relatives, does not mean you have to wallow in the idiocy with them.
However, should we stop having mashed po-fucking-tatos at holiday dinners, I think I’d cry.

9

A 14-year-old should be capable of making his own mashed po-fucking-tatos. We’re not talking about a goddamn souffle here.

10

Dearest Queen Tonya,

This a formal request that you should at all times in the future refer to your personal history as, My Talkshow Life[sup]©[/sup].

Best Wishes,

Zenster

11

Here’s ya’ some mashed-po-fucking-tatoes:

Mashed Potato Time
Dee Dee Sharp

(Written by Jon Sheldon and Harry Land)

It’s the latest, it’s the greatest,
Mashed Patato, ya, ya ,ya

A Mashed Potato started long time ago
With a guy named Sloppy Joe,
You’ll find this dance is so cool to do,
Come on baby, gonna teach it to you.

Mashed Potato, feel it in your feet now,
Mashed Potato, come on get the beat now,
Baby, come on honey, come on baby.

And then they dance it through and through,
They look for records they can do it to,
They got a dance was outta sight,
Doin’ the lion sleeps tonight.

Mashed Potato, Ya a weem o wep a weem o wep,
Mashed Potato, ya, ya, ya, ya,
It’s the latest, aw baby,
It’s the greatest, come on honey,
Ya, ya ya, ya,

:wink:

Great story, Skerri!

12

:smiley:

Thank you all. I swear, I’m going to hurl mashed po-fucking-tatos at the next family gathering. (Food fights are common in my family; usually my dad starts them.)

I generally used to believe that I grew up in the “Brady Bunch”-esque type family. Now I’m convinced that the Brady Bunch qualities, combined with years of psychiatric neglect have turned my family into the Carringtons. I swear.

13

See, this sort of thing is why my mother moved to the other side of the country as soon as she graduated. 3000 miles between my mom and the insanity and dysfunctionality that is her side of the family. Of course, I moved right back (but not for the same reasons, I actually like my family). Fortunately, I only have real contact with the incredibly cool uncle who used to bribe his nieces and nephews with 5 bucks a head to march into the dining room at family gatherings and declare which uncle was our favorite (we were all between 4 and 8 at the time). This was before he got married and had kids. I’m thinking of reviving the practice with my little cousins (all between the ages of 8-12) at the next family gathering.

Of course, now he bribes me with delicious food, booze and trips to his beach house in Ocean City, NJ to declare him as my favorite. I love that man.

14

The kicker? Currently I reside at LEAST 600 miles away from most of said family. But they have my phone number and email, so I get updates often.

I’m not the kind of person to ditch out on my family. (Regardless of how ridiculous they become.) I just had to gripe about this all to someone (whether it be 30K members of a message board or my roomies) before I blew a gasket somewhere.

I get to spend an entire weekend with them all at the end of July. Anyone got a good recipe for mashed po-fucking-tatos? :smiley: I swear, I want to make like a 50 gallon vat of those things, just so I can start flinging it as soon as I walk in the house…

15

<note to self: reconsider dinner with Skerri> :smiley:

Great story! I thought my family was whacko, but you’ve got us beat! And speaking of dinner, I’ll be in Balto the first weekend in August, and the 3rd, and the 5th - wanna try to meet?

16

Is FS the oldest? She sure sounds like it. And I, too, thought this was about some 3 year old going thru the terrible threes. Good lord.

My parents usually get into an argument and my mother throws a dramatic tear jerking game and runs off into the bedroom. My stomach feels sick just thinking about holidays, which I refuse to participate in any more.

I mail my gifts :smiley:

17

[jingle]
You deserve a break today,
so get up and get away,
to McDonalds.
[/jingle]

18

I think we need a Weird Family Exchange[sup]TM[/sup]. I mean, how many of us really came from ‘normal’ families, whatever they are? Nah, we’re all the offspring (and frequently the siblings, apparently) of total psychotic loons.

Naturally, the particular craziness of one’s particular family grates excessively on one, after having to put up with it for decades. So the solution is, we all swap.

Whaddaya say? :wink:

19

Dude, you crack me up!! Always with the recipes … :smiley:

20

Sorry, Zenster, but I think your recipe was missing one crucial… ingredient. Suffice to say, it’s what seperates mashed po-fucking-tatos from regular mashed potatos. For the sake of those with more delicate stomachs, I shan’t elaborate except to say, if you’ve seen Fight Club, it’s the same ingedient that makes ordering the clam chowder a bad idea.