Especially since her “adult level” contribution is a freaking vegetable tray (and NOT a big one) while everyone else is bringing actual cooked food, usually multiple dishes plus drinks.
Me too, because at age 46 and still unmarried, I am apparently not an adult yet.
BTW, there is a rather expensive plate that you can purchase via the AFP website with this entire letter on it. Good thing they changed the names to protect the innocent, the guilty, and the just plain crazy.
It’s a testament to how much strife my MIL has caused lately that I’d almost welcome a letter like this - at least we’d then know what she wanted. Instead, the way it works now is she asks people to bring random things (as in “could you bring a pie?”), we bring something she deems unacceptable (but she never tells anyone that it’s unacceptable - for example, we bring an apple pie but she really wanted pecan), and then she then uses the “wrong” dish as a weapon later.
Yeah. It’s fun. I’m *so *looking forward to T-Day this year, can’t you tell?
Good Grief, can you imagine what a laugh fest that dinner must be?
I think I’d rather have a root canal.
On the contrary - what could be more fun than mocking and teasing “Marnie” until her head exploded? I picture a wonderful bonding experience, with everyone getting blotto and taking the piss out of her until she just about died. Good times.
Sent with my fat fingers using Tapatalk.
I’m thinking of the Cynthia Stevens character in Jodie Foster’s “Home for the Holidays.”