I think it’s more the case of your friends know you and are presumably familiar with your, shall we say, quirks. As such, then you become the norm and anyone who deviates too far from you may merit some preparation.
In my own case, I rarely drink alcohol because it puts me to sleep. My friends know that. Some of my sibs are quite the opposite - a few beverages and they may start dancing on the tables. It seems only fair to let the newcomer know what might happen when it’s a bit out there.
Yes, I’ll notify guests ahead of time in some instances for initial encounters if they’re going to be around family/guests who’ve previously demonstrated a willingness to engage in offensive behavior.
Yes - my brother-in-law warned my wife, when she was becoming part of the family, that all of us are a little on the far side of eccentric, but that most of us aren’t dangerous. His explanation of how it works when we get together is, everyone talks at once and looks around to see who is listening. If someone is listening (usually an in-law) they talk to that person. If no one is listening, they talk louder.
My family puts the “fun” back into “dysfunctional” - we are crazy but we mean well. My sister will talk your arm off but you don’t actually need to listen - just say “uh huh” every so often. Yes, my sister-in-law is almost completely covered in tattoos and has a pink mohawk but she is actually a really nice person. My dad isn’t ignoring you - he forgot his hearing aids again.
And don’t worry if my brothers-in-law get going about politics or Trump - my mom has decades of experience in semi-tactfully saying “that’s not a pleasant topic for the dinner table - let’s talk about vacation plans”. But keep in mind - she means it. And she has a Disapproving Frown that would freeze an attacking hyena in its tracks.
Fortunately we are all gorged into semi-coma and disinclined to be obstreperous, and then we can go back to talking about the Packers or movies or our gall bladders or the wonderful things the grandchildren/grandnieces/grandnephews are up to.
The only parts that might be of concern are the parts that appear normal to me, but not to a person raised in a sane family. Thus when my father and my cousin begin comparing surgical approaches to rebuilding a urethra in cats vs. newborns, at the dinner table, it seems like just an average conversation to me, even when they talk about the different clamp sizes they might need. To my wife - not so much.
Regards,
Shodan
I don’t do things with “friends and family”. Each xmas eve we host my family. I only invite them. Similarly, we do one or two events each year with my gf’s family. Again, it is family only. All other parties are friends only, with no family invited.
So, no.
When my dad was first diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and was in the early stages, he had some delusional thinking going on*. Since my dad hadn’t accepted what was happening to him yet, we only told people on a need-to-know basis. That included people coming for holiday dinners. It made things more comfortable for everyone.
*All planes were the same airplane and they were following/watching him.
It’s an interesting question. How do you differentiate between being mean on the one hand and a kindly greasing of the social skids on the other?
Once I upset some dear friends by suggesting that a visitor from overseas should be clued in about their child’s autism. Child is a perfectly wonderful person, but the visitor was from a country where he would have been unlikely ever to run into an autistic person, or to have learned what that is. I thought the kind thing to do would be to explain in advance. It was the wrong thing to say[sup]tm[/sup]. Of course I apologized immediately, but I still feel bad when I think of it.
It would certainly be easy to appear just bitter or gossipy while doing this. How does one draw the line?
Oh she’s perfectly awful.
Some of us have (or did have) violent family members, or family members who are addicts and will try to steal guest’s money, or family members with dogs that bite who bring them everywhere, or family members who will try to grope guests.
I never invite anybody to meet the family. And on the rare occasions encounters have stumbled into being, it never crosses my mind to mention anything. If things go to pot I’m caught as flatfooted as anybody.
I’m not so good at the ‘human interaction’ thing.
When SharkWife and I were dating we went to her brother’s place for dinner, this was the first time I’d met her family.
She said her bro was a lawyer – something to do with real estate – and was really nice, nice wife, kids were cute, nice, normal people, they did okay money-wise, etc.
I come from a rambunctious rural Utah hillbilly family. We were dirt poor growing up; for the most part everyone does okay now, kind of lower-middle class – this is what “okay money-wise” means to me.
So we roll across Manhattan to brother’s pad. He owns an apartment in a lovely Art Deco-ish building. On Central Park West. It’s the Penthouse with its own elevator.
All I could do is stand in front of their enormous windows and gape at the view of the entirety of Central Park and most of NYC. Their decor was simple and classic in the way really expensive furniture is. I do okay for myself, I pull in low six figures and have a Ph.D. – but I suddenly felt as if I was barefoot, wearing overalls, chawing on a wheat stem, and had ridden my mule there. It was the kind of place Diane Keaton and Meryl Streep probably live.
Her family was great and very welcoming, but I was absolutely intimidated by the surroundings.
On the way home I asked Wifey why she didn’t tell me her brother was rich. “Huh, I guess he does okay - do you think he’s rich?” Uh, yeah, maybe.
… my inner* interior decorator was nerdgasming at the description… daaaamn…