The holidays approach . . .

The BBQ Pit
1

I look forward to the near future with mild trepidation, which will inevitably lead to dread. The dread will then turn to outright paranoia and then unbridled terror as my syngenesophobia kicks into high gear. I know how it will occur: it’s the same every year. I will be minding my own business, watching the football game on TV when they burst into the house. Five of them at first, but I know more will follow; they travel in packs, you see. The three smaller ones will storm about the place, squealing and always managing to be underfoot even when I’m sitting down. The two larger ones somehow manage to be as loud as the squealers, but make different sounds.

Yep, it’s my Uncle Bob and Aunt Jennifer with their viscously evil offspring coming by for Thanksgiving dinner.

First the 9-year-old, Terror - oops I mean Tara – will immediately run over to the TV and switch the channel to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade because Uncle Beelza-Bob promised she could watch it over here to shut up her screaming in the car. She has a knack for doing it right before my team looks like they’re about to score – quarterback having just thrown a perfect spiral to the receiver. Will he catch it, I wonder and lean forward in my seat, waiting to see if we’ll re-take the lead and then – click There’s Mary fuckin’ Hart introducing the marching band from East Pudknocker High as they play the Theme from Rocky while walking in front of the giant Magilla fuckin’ Gorilla balloon. I’ll snatch the remote from her and switch it back to the game, but now Terror’s off crying to Mommy about how mean Cousin Ron won’t let her watch the parade. Jennifer will come in and ask if Terror can see the parade and then sulk when I say she can watch the parade in the other room because I’m in the middle of watching the football game.

“But you watch the games on the big TV every year,” she’ll say before going to the kitchen to chat it up with my mom.

That’s right, Jennifer, I do watch the game on the big TV every year. And you know why? Cuz it’s a different fuckin’ game every year, that’s why. Your brat kid is watching the SAME FUCKING PARADE! It’s the same damn thing every year. A bunch of marching bands, some stupid socially conscious floats, the same 1960’s era cartoon character balloons, and then Santa Claus at the end. Now if you don’t let me watch the game, I’ll tell all 3 of your demon-seed children that there is no Santa and let you deal with that the rest of the fucking day. Now fuck off before you anger me.

Then Uncle Bob enters the room to watch the game. But that’s not really why he’s there. He’s in the room to brag to me about what great time he’s made and the latest short cut he’s found. Last year he made it in 2 hours 13 minutes. Buying himself a radar detector this year to see if he can’t break that 2 hour barrier. Yeah, I really give a shit, Uncle Bob. I mean it. I really care about this. Tell me again about the time you drove from Kansas City to Las Vegas in just 6 hours 23 minutes and 14 seconds. Oh you found another short cut, too? That’s great. You know what I do to find short cuts? I buy a fucking map, that’s what I do, Magellan! Those things are great, tell you all the roads you can possibly take and everything! I’ll get you one for Christmas, you freak.

Shortly thereafter, I hear the dogs yelp as the 5- and 3-year olds play too roughly with them. I put the dogs outside for the own safety and return to the living room to watch the game. What do I find but Terror sitting in my spot, watching that goddammed Macy’s Parade! I pride myself in my self-control as I restrain the urge to smack her repeatedly in the head and chase her from the room.

The day goes on and the pattern continues until everyone has arrived. It’s time to eat. I can sit at the kids table and play referee with the little monsters or sit by my Grandmother and listen to her ask me why I’m not married yet and what happened to that one girl I was engaged to? She seemed so nice . . .

Yeah, Grandma, she seemed nice, but in reality she would peel that face off and reveal the slimy, bug-eyed, bloody-fanged monster underneath. I dumped her two years ago Grandma. Everyone knows why, hell you know why, but don’t want to accept it for some reason. Turn up the hearing aid so I can tell you again: She was a bitch. I’m glad to be rid of her. You’re lucky I’m only single and not serving time in a federal pen for manslaughter. In fact this year, when we all say what we’re thankful for, I want that to be yours. Say it, Grandma, say “I’m thankful my only grandson is single instead of some big convict’s bitch getting anally raped every night in prison for killing his fiancé.” There, now doesn’t that help put my breakup in perspective?

Ah, the holidays. A time to get together with your loving family and bug the living shit out of each other.

And then we get to do it again at Christmas. Yay.

2

This is my parents’ first year of hitting the road in the winter to do that snowbird/RV thang. We’re still in contact by e-mail and phone, and I’m taking care of their bills and other paperwork while they’re gone. They left the last week of October.

But the full impact of this didn’t hit me until a few days before they left. NO HOLIDAYS WITH THE FAMILY!! Well, if an aunt and uncle (preferably from Dad’s side – they’re more my type) invite the extended family, I’ll gladly go. But no more of my mother’s pitiful little attempts to assemble the facade of our nuclear family into some fake “happy loving family” tableau in her cold little house, with Mom, my sister, and me being the only ones who interact in forced conversation, while my dad throws in a racist joke here and there, sister’s macho jerk asocial husband sits pouting and catatonic in the corner, and poor Mr. Scarlett tries to make the newspaper last all day.

Mr. Scarlett and I are going to make reservations for Thanksgiving at an elegant restaurant. Perhaps for Christmas we’ll get together with friends – people we actually WANT to spend time with. And this is the first year in several that I actually want to put up a tree.

Crunchy Frog, boy, do I hear ya. Got any other single friends in the same boat? Maybe you can put together a gathering of friends and tell the family you have other plans. We did this the last few years and it was great.

3

This is why I volunteered to work both Thanksgiving and Christmas. I’d rather be making double time than sitting on my fat ass doing nothing.

Robin

4

The most noble use to which alcohol can be put is to help ease you through and blur the “family holiday gathering” debacle.

5

Crunchy,
I feel your pain, brother!
I found the ultimate solution:
Everyone is invited to my house. That’s right- my house for dinner, and I’m the hostess. I get all the food ready the day before, then spend the day in the kitchen puttering around and looking busy. Whenever my mom approaches (which is rare, as she is unsure of what all those kitchen things are for), I just turn around and say “Oh! Gotta check the gravy!” or some such. I get to ignore everyone, but still get to watch the game. My neices both know that Thanksgiving equals Aunt Suzy cooking and watching football. They bring their own stuff to do and keep busy.

The best part is my mother in law and my mother. They are both sickly (mental and physical), and sit for HOURS discussing doctors, pus, illness, infection, etc. The best part about that is, it spares the rest of us! In fact, when my mom starts some shit about her latest illness, I say “Ask Allans mom about that- I think she had trouble with that”. Works like a charm. They talk at each other all day and the rest of us watch football on the big screen TV. Life is peaceful (at least for me).

Oh, and I also start drinking at about 7am on Thanksgiving. That usually helps matters a lot.

Zette

6

I had a feeling I wouldn’t be the only one whose family bugs the shit out of him.

There’s more to rant about, but I had a feeling the OP was getting long enough as it was. For example, I made the mistake of showing the little monsters that I could do magic tricks last year. All night I heard, “Do another trick, do another trick, do another trick, do another trick!”

Dammit kids! How many times do I have to tell you, “That’s all I can do with what I have! There’s only so many things to do with a regular deck of cards and some coins.” My rigged decks and other tricks are at my house, not at my parents’ house.

Here’s some things I had to say to the 3 Brat-keteers and their parents last year:

Dammit, Tara! If you turn off the football game one more time I’m gonna shove your head through the TV so you can watch the parade really close up, ok?

Brittany get out of there! That’s not a sandbox, that’s the cat box!

Drew, I don’t care if she just ate, don’t brush the dog’s teeth!

(This was my favorite - Bob and Jennifer ran out on a beer run for the game, Tara wanted to know where they went, so I said:) They left because you’ve been so horribly bad today. We don’t think they’re coming back, either.

And then there’s my wonderful conversations with Grandma.

No, Grandma, she’s not here, we broke up last year.

No, Grandma, I’m not home on leave. I work for AT&T now, I’ve been out of the Air Force for 4 years. Yes, I know I looked good in that uniform, but I don’t wear it anymore cuz I’m not in the service anymore.

No, Grandma, I dodn’t bring my fiance because we broke up last year.

You don’t have to sleep on the couch, Grandma, I don’t live here anymore. No really, I have my own place, you can sleep in the extra bedroom.

No Grandma, we broke up a year ago. She’s not joing us later.

Yes, that means I’m still single, you did not miss the wedding.

(Everytime I see her, I have to go through the questions about me not being married. I’m waiting for her to ask if I’m gay one of these days.)

7

I had Thanksgiving early this year. A close friend of mine sent me an invitation to an early Thanksgiving dinner, which I attended this past weekend. I think I’ll frame the invitation:

"Thanksgiving is bullshit. Once per year, we are told we have to spend a day out of our precious lives in the presence of and thanking God for people we’ve hated our entire lives. We will do this, for the sake of amity and familial obligation, but we will not enjoy it.

We like you. We enjoy spending time with you, and we give thanks for your personality and friendship. Please have a real Thanksgiving dinner with us, Saturday, November 11, 2000, at one o’clock PM. Thank you.

RSVP"

Beautiful. :slight_smile:

8

Well, Crunchy, I WAS going to invite myself along, but now that I think about it…

9

We will probably have my Aunt, Cousin and his new wife over. They are all cool. I have a great family to have thanksgiving with. The only possible fly in the cream would be my Uncle, who is 70 and about as disagreeable as they day is long.

But that’s only around my Aunt (My Mom’s twin sister). Around here, he is very nice and polite. Mainly because my Mom would rip him a new one if he pulled any type of off kiler behavior. My Dad is the quiet, diplomatic one.

This is why we don’t see my Uncle much at family gatherings, he’d get creamed if he got grumpy.

10

God gives you your friends and the Devil gives you your family.

11

Thanks, Ogre, that’s the first time I’ve been called brilliant. Well, not the first. The first time is after I got shocked by 277V, but I think the guy was either being sarcastic or talking about the light that was shining from my ass afterwards.

I love the quote, Zenster. DO you have Webster’s Big-Ass Book of Quotes or something handy all the time or what?

Saint Zero - You don’t have to rub my nose in it, okay? Go have your little Brady Bunch holidays, while the rest of us needlessly suffer in the name of familial love.

threemae come on over, no one will mind. Misery loves company.

12

Well, Crunchy Frog, I would just like to second the compliment of “brilliant.” That was one of the best rants I have read in a long time.

I really don’t like the over-the-top, too-many-adjectives, let’s-see-how-many-sexual-references-and-body-parts-I-can-name-to-describe-every-aspect-of-the-topic-of-my-rant rants. (Much like everyone else hates the I’m-using-too-many-hyphens-to-describe-something-style I have of posting!)

Anyway, good rant and oh, Happy Thanksgiving! :wink:

13

I am now sitting here with a what-the-hell-was-that-I-can’t-figure-out-if-that’s-one-big-word-or-a-whole-sentence-that’s-been-clever-disguised-look on my face.

Anyway, glad you liked the rant. It was supposed to be just a little light-hearted essay about my family coming by that I was gonna post in MPSIMS. But the more I wrote, the less MPSIMS-ish it seemed, so it ended up here.

14

Yes, I too get to have the JOY of going to visit my parents tomorrow. (Luckily I got the early flight home on Sunday…)

I’ve ranted about my parents before, so we’ll just a have a sampling here of what we’ll have:

“Is the medication working yet? Feel any glimmers?”
“Are you reading those depression books? They helped your dad, you know.” (Yeah, and then he told me you read too many damn books.)
“You know, your dad’s therapist offered to see you while you were down here…SURE you don’t want to go?” (Sure, mom…this is the same therapist that told dad he’d never change you, so learn to deal with it.)
“How’s the weight loss? You look like you gained weight.” (You saw me 10 FUCKING DAYS AGO!)
“You know, I think you’ll finally be happy once you lose 100 pounds.” (Yes, they’ve said this to my face. Several times.)

And then comes the REAL joy…they’re spending a FUCKING WEEK here at Christmas. Which means I have to go to bed at 11 every night, and barely use my own computer. I swear, next year, I’m finding some reason I can’t go down there. I hate the holidays.

15

Good luck, Crunchy (and everyone else).

Personally, I’m looking forward to the relations who arrive at my parents’ house at noon and expect uniformed butlers to be whisking their coats away, ushering them to their seats, and placing huge plates of steaming food in front of them.

That ain’t gonna happen, guys. Every year, the meal works the same way. Every year, we stand around chatting for a couple hours while my father and I finish cooking. Every year, we eat around 2 p.m. Every year, the food (and wine and conversation) are plentiful, delicious and well worth the wait, so quit complaining!

Happy Thanksgiving. :slight_smile:

16

Thanks Falcon, you just reminded me. This is the first Thanksgiving I’ll have to spend with these people since I’ve been on my medication. I’m sure they’ve all heard about it by now and I wonder how they’ll react when they see me.

Maybe if I act ready to snap at any second (a lot of twitching, slapping at the air, and shouting at nothing) they’ll all just assume the medication isn’t working and stay away from me. With my luck though, Jennifer (she does this sort of thing a lot) has read up on depression in order to work up a conversation with me on the topic. Yeah, Jennifer, I really want to talk about my medical conditions with you now that you’ve read two magazine articles on the topic. :rolleyes:

17

The more I hear about other people’s families, the more I love mine. Kind, pleasant, functional, clean and somewhat intelligent.

Thanks, Mom and Dad and Grandparents.

–Tim

18

Don’t get me wrong, I love my immediate family and all my relatives in KY. It’s the one’s that decided to stay around the St Louis area that bug me.

My grandmother was happy to hear that I’ve gotten engaged again though, so I managed to avoid listening to her ask about why I broke up with the other one all day.