Remember it could be worse. You could be related to these people.The holidays are a reminder that we leave home and become independent, free thinking, capable adults for a good reason. The holidays also serve to keep us humble. How great can you be if you share DNA with a guy who undoes his pants at the dinner table in order to make more room for seconds? If you're snickering because you don't share DNA with such people, smack yourself. You willingly married into this family of freaks.
Ladies, don't be control freaks. You want people to have a good time right? Let the guys watch football. No one wants to play charades. Everyone hates charades, and they roll their eyes at you when your back is turned. Turn off the tube for dinner and then let folks do what they want. Better memories are made when folks are happy. Keep the prayer short, and for the love of God, don't make us go around the table and share what we are thankful for. (Real answer: At some point this torture will be over and we can go home.)
Guys, when dinner is served, get your ass to the table. Don't wait until half time or the moment suits you. People worked while you sat around and scratched yourself all so that you could stuff your face. Here's a thought... since the ladies have been working all day, how about the men do the dishes for a change? Fair is fair.
Guests, unless asked, don't give advice. The dining room was painted green because your host/hostess likes green. Please don't go on and on about how lovely a pale yellow would look in a home where someone else pays the mortgage. Your host/hostess knows that you believe a stuffed turkey stays moist, but your hostess believes said stuffing had her stopping to puke at every rest stop on the journey home last year. This year, it's her house, and she's gonna do it HER way. Let go, make yourself useful, and offer to peel the potatoes. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT offer to dust using a comment like, "Clearly you have been too busy for thorough housekeeping, Dear." Your hostess also does not want to entertain your views on disciplining her children, thank you, you old bitty/hag.
Kids, don't gripe about having to sit at the kiddie table. I finally got a seat at the grownup table last year -at forty something- when someone died. It isn't all it's cracked up to be, trust me. Everyone notices when you don't eat Aunt Suzie nasty candied yams. The only thing that makes the grownup table tolerable is the wine.
Speaking of wine, liquor is to flow freely during the holidays. You should definitely bring a bottle. Or two. Skip the flowers and bring three. Jesus turned water into wine for a reason. To prevent us mere mortals from taking our kin too seriously and strangling a relation in lieu of the bird. My holiday commandment is to keep a sense humor by always having a glass of liquor in hand. Burnt bird, a little broken china, an over flowing toilet... all humorous when combined with the proper amount of liquor.
God speed, and remember, if they behave in a particularly evil manner, lace their pumpkin pie with a few drops of raw turkey juice. Works like a charm. Trust me. Heh. Heh.
