I'm the first (whispered) mention by mom that "your sister has put on weight."
Later, I'm the totally innocent and clueless, trying to be a goofball, mention by Dad that she has put on weight, that ends in uncomfortable stares and tears.
I'm the first (whispered) mention by mom that "your sister has put on weight."
Later, I'm the totally innocent and clueless, trying to be a goofball, mention by Dad that she has put on weight, that ends in uncomfortable stares and tears.
|by Anonymous||reply 503||11/13/2012|
I'm the aunt who brought nothing but a dish of jello. After the first bite of turkey, I will tell you that it is dry...but still good.
|by Anonymous||reply 1||11/13/2010|
I'm the booze that makes Mom say rude things.
|by Anonymous||reply 2||11/13/2010|
I am the green bean and fried onion strip salad brought by the sister-in-law who no one likes. Later, she will drunkenly drag her husband and family out the door before dessert over some perceived slight from the children of the hostess.
|by Anonymous||reply 6||11/13/2010|
I'm the blissed out 15 year old cousin who discovered many and sundry treasures in the hostess's medicine cabinet.
|by Anonymous||reply 7||11/13/2010|
I'm the vegan.
|by Anonymous||reply 8||11/13/2010|
I showed up in spite of not being invited - again!
|by Anonymous||reply 10||11/13/2010|
I'm the wild 50something aunt from California who spends the entire afternoon sneaking out to the porch to smoke joints with the teenage sons. Later on, I'll ask for thirds on pumpkin pie and wax poetic about how freeing it is to be divorced and on the prowl.
|by Anonymous||reply 11||11/13/2010|
I'm the British person wondering if you have turkey for Thanksgiving, what on earth do you eat at Christmas?
|by Anonymous||reply 12||11/13/2010|
r12, there are actually enough turkeys for both celebrations including easter as well.%0D %0D some people eat turkey to celebrate Jesus's slaughter...just saying.
|by Anonymous||reply 13||11/13/2010|
Turkey = Thanksgiving
Roast Beef = Christmas
Ham or Lamb = Easter
|by Anonymous||reply 14||11/13/2010|
I'm the sister in law who thinks she's a celiac. I'll bore you to tears discussing the evils of gluten and point out the hidden horrors lurking in every dish.
|by Anonymous||reply 15||11/13/2010|
I am the person who farts at the tdinner table... causing SOME to point it out and my pointing out that they are fat or gay or have a black boy/girlfriend
|by Anonymous||reply 16||11/13/2010|
(thank you R16 and R4: you made me laugh out loud after a hard week)
|by Anonymous||reply 17||11/13/2010|
OOOH - I LOVE THIS Game - we play it every year here at DL.
I'm the neglected second pumpkin pie that Mom bought just in case 1 pumpkin, 2 apple and some 3rd type of pie that no one recognizes is enough for all 6 of us.
|by Anonymous||reply 18||11/13/2010|
I'm the bag of leftovers that will last 3 weeks because...
"you're not eating enough and you're wasting away to nothing."
"But, mom I'm perfectly fine and my weight is fine."
"You look too thin. "
"Here take it. And this fifty."
"Mom, I do very well."
"Don't argue with your mother."
|by Anonymous||reply 19||11/13/2010|
I'm the four glasses of wine drunk by the eldest son within an hour of arriving at his parents' house, causing mom to remark to dad later that night after everyone has left that "P____ drinks a lot more than he used to."
|by Anonymous||reply 20||11/13/2010|
I'm the uncle who watches Fox News all day. I'll spend the day trying to work the word "O-Bammer" into every conversation. My teeth click when I eat.
|by Anonymous||reply 21||11/13/2010|
Would your mother adopt me R19?
|by Anonymous||reply 22||11/13/2010|
I'm the former male cousin that everyone finally accepts as a female - that announces just as dessert is being served that she's changing back to male.
|by Anonymous||reply 23||11/13/2010|
I'm the creepy stepfather who spends most of the day making borderline inappropriate remarks to all of the under-30 women and teenage girls at the gathering.
|by Anonymous||reply 24||11/13/2010|
I'm the girlfriend the brother brought home from college. She'll spend the day being nervous and we'll spend the day being polite. Everyone involved knows we'll never see her again.
We'll still insist she's included in all the photographs. Years from now everyone will look at the pictures and wonder what her name was.
|by Anonymous||reply 25||11/13/2010|
This thread is funny. I just wish I wasn't British and unable to contribute.
|by Anonymous||reply 26||11/13/2010|
I'm the college freshman back for the first time.
Friday night it will dawn on me that this is no longer my home and I have nothing in common with my high school friends anymore. I'll count the hours until I can go back to school and start planning Christmas in Amsterdam.
|by Anonymous||reply 27||11/13/2010|
I'm the freshman college student come back for the first time, now believing that I'm enlightened and understand things that no one else does.
I'll start a really boring conversation at the dinner table, while everybody else jsut tries to get drink and stuff themselves.
|by Anonymous||reply 28||11/13/2010|
I'm my nephew who is too young to have reached such a conclusion without the "assistance" of his parents, but nonetheless spouts off about how homeless people secure their position by spending all their money on alcohol and cigarettes.
|by Anonymous||reply 29||11/13/2010|
I'm the awkward moment when your cousin introduces you to her ultra-hunky boyfriend who's been "warned" that you're gay.
|by Anonymous||reply 30||11/13/2010|
More, please, more!
|by Anonymous||reply 31||11/13/2010|
I'm the self-satisfied sister who feels she did the most to help mom prepare dinner, and who notices whether everyone tries enough of the dishes that she specially prepared. Portion control is an insult on this day and results in passive aggressiveness if exercised.
|by Anonymous||reply 32||11/13/2010|
I'm the aunt who announces that she hates that Nancy Pelosi - yet can't explain why. I just throw up my hands and say "I dunno, I just don't like her."
|by Anonymous||reply 33||11/13/2010|
I'm the childhood spat, circa 1940, annually revived by the seventy-ish brother and sister at the dinner table.%0D %0D
|by Anonymous||reply 34||11/13/2010|
I'm the knowing looks between the closeted son and his sister who knows the truth when everyone starts asking him about who he's dating.
|by Anonymous||reply 35||11/13/2010|
I'm the freak who looks around the table and actually loves everyone, participates in the animated conversation and truly thinks the food is really tasty. Seconds and thirds, please!
I am also the one whose psychopharmacologist is a very, very talented doctor even if those drugs prompt weight gain.
|by Anonymous||reply 36||11/13/2010|
I'm non-alcoholic Bev, fresh out of an AA meeting!
|by Anonymous||reply 37||11/13/2010|
I'm Aunt Joyce. I'm in AA so I will spend the whole time chopping vegetables and washing dishes so I'm not tempted to drink. I sneak out to the garage to call my sponsor.
|by Anonymous||reply 38||11/13/2010|
Im your mom's fucked up brother calling from prison.
|by Anonymous||reply 39||11/13/2010|
I'm the elderly cat who drops a mind-blowing deuce in the all-too-conveniently located litter box.%0D %0D Then, I'm the expression on everyone's face when they realize what happened.
|by Anonymous||reply 40||11/13/2010|
Im the big wad of toilet paper that's about to cause a massive bathroom flood after your post meal dump. I know there is no plunger in this bathroom. I will cause great embarrassment on your part.
|by Anonymous||reply 41||11/13/2010|
"mind-blowing deuce"%0D %0D omfg%0D %0D bwaaaaaahahahahah
|by Anonymous||reply 42||11/13/2010|
I'm the TV reporter stuck at the airport all weekend. I'll be doing endless idiotic remotes about how long the lines are, and, God willing, there will be a snowstorm so I can wear my new fur-lined parka.
If you take a shot every time you hear me say "busiest travel day of the year" your Thanksgiving will be smooth and painless.
|by Anonymous||reply 44||11/13/2010|
I'm the lonely DLer with neither family nor friends, spending yet another holiday with a turkey TV dinner and a six pack.
|by Anonymous||reply 45||11/13/2010|
I'm the happy DLer who, after countless tense and combative family Thanksgivings, am enjoying my turkey dinner alone.
|by Anonymous||reply 47||11/13/2010|
I'm Charlie Sheen, wondering why none of the escort services are answering their phones on a Thursday afternoon?
|by Anonymous||reply 48||11/13/2010|
I'm the N-word that blurts out of Grandad's mouth after his 3rd beer. Yeah you heard me.
|by Anonymous||reply 49||11/13/2010|
I'm the guilt my family is trying so fruitlessly to make me feel after I tell them I'm visiting friends in Seattle for Thanksgiving this year.
|by Anonymous||reply 50||11/13/2010|
I'm the son home from college who announces he's not sitting next to Uncle Mort because he tried to feel him up when he was seven and had a repressed memory when tripping on mushrooms while watching a Lifetime movie marathon in the dorm.
|by Anonymous||reply 51||11/13/2010|
I'm my mother's limp-penis-shaped lime, sour cream, pineapple and walnut jello mold.
|by Anonymous||reply 52||11/13/2010|
I'm the big bottle of ginger ale that appears every year. You said you liked it when you were 6, and now its a tradition that will not die.
|by Anonymous||reply 53||11/13/2010|
lol!, especially r25.
|by Anonymous||reply 54||11/13/2010|
I'm the single, adult homosexual who is forced to sit at the kids' table, while the married heterosexuals sit at the adults' table.
|by Anonymous||reply 55||11/13/2010|
I'm Rachel Ray. I get brought up in the women's conversation every year while they drink wine and nibble cheese in the kitchen. As usual they all hate me. Suck my turkey hole bitches.
|by Anonymous||reply 56||11/13/2010|
I'm the unhappy hospital braced for stabbing and gunshot victims who didn't run fast enough when a relative "just snapped" after a snide comment at the table. I'm also not looking forward to all the food poisoning patients barfing up dinner because some idiot didn't properly defrost the turkey.
|by Anonymous||reply 57||11/13/2010|
Jeez, R55. Quit your complaining. At least they allow you to physically sit inside. I'm forced to eat at the picnic table...outside!
|by Anonymous||reply 58||11/13/2010|
R12 -- we eat lasagna, garlic bread, pepperoni salad and sausage quiche for Christmas. We are Irish American, believe it or not.
|by Anonymous||reply 59||11/13/2010|
I'm the Dairy Queen Thanksgiving Turkey Ice Cream Cake left standing (and melting) on Cousin Ann's kitchen countertop. In such a hurry to get over to Susie's house, Cousin Ann forgot to take me.. the special dessert.
|by Anonymous||reply 60||11/13/2010|
I'm the foreign freshman who was brought home by the family college student so I could enjoy %0D "a real American traditional Thanksgiving." I'm going to hide in my closet every year for the entire month of November so nobody can make ever me do this again.
|by Anonymous||reply 61||11/13/2010|
I'm the Christmas light up sweater in the closet. My owner Jane plans to put me on at 3:30 AM tomorrow morning. That is when she, Mallory, Angela and Tiffany head out to get in line at Target in anticipation of Black Friday sales.
|by Anonymous||reply 62||11/13/2010|
I'm the clipped-sounding "I don't recall discussing this" that seethes from my sister's mouth. I am a reaction to cousin Michelle's announcement over pie, stating that the entire extended family will draw "secret santa" gift-giving assignments this year because there are now too many relatives and money's kind of tight.
|by Anonymous||reply 63||11/13/2010|
I'm the perplexed daughter when her mother wails for the millionth time "I just wish I had a real family!".
|by Anonymous||reply 64||11/13/2010|
I'm the ABC Family cable channel which proudly brings you Julie Andrews & Christopher Plummer in Rodgers and Hammerstein's THE SOUND OF MUSIC not once but TWICE every Thanksgiving and Christmas week.
|by Anonymous||reply 65||11/13/2010|
[quote] I'm the Christmas light up sweater in the closet. My owner Jane plans to put me on at 3:30 AM tomorrow morning. That is when she, Mallory, Angela and Tiffany head out to get in line at Target in anticipation of Black Friday sales.
Jane, Mallory, Angela and Tiffany will all be waaay to late, Target opens at 4AM!
|by Anonymous||reply 66||11/13/2010|
I'm the happy homosexual who has T-day dinner with my aging hippie friends/post feminist friends/radical Jewish friends/and other gays including my wonderful ex/my WASP self and my truly marvelous Virginian black husband.
Life is good.
|by Anonymous||reply 67||11/13/2010|
I am the somewhat racist grandmother who can't understand why only one of her grandchildren are married. And then also can't understand why the one married grandchild hasn't provided her with great-grandchildren yet.
|by Anonymous||reply 68||11/13/2010|
I'm the football game that all males over the age of 14 will use to get out of small talk.
|by Anonymous||reply 69||11/13/2010|
I'm the pain in the ass sister who gets sulkier and poutier the more she drinks because no one ever paid enough attention TO ME (in my mind). Everyone dreads the holidays because I spend the entire time doing this and making it all about ME and bringing up every peceived slight from the past. I will eventually storm out of the house vowing never to return because NO ONE LOVES ME!!! Everyone will breathe a sigh of relief and mom will make excuses for me (I was always the sensitive one) when I am gone and, I, of course will return to do it all over again at Christmas.
|by Anonymous||reply 70||11/13/2010|
I'm the inevitable discussion of tryptophan.
|by Anonymous||reply 71||11/13/2010|
I am the 4 year old who will eat nothing but dessert.
|by Anonymous||reply 72||11/13/2010|
I am the brined turkey, the recipe that the homosexual son got from the New York Times.
Because I am not a Butterball, the dying father will scream YOU'VE RUINED MY LAST THANKSGIVING! YOU'VE RUINED MY LAST THANKSGIVING!
The homosexual son will take to the scotch as the dying father says, "Hey, this is pretty good!"
|by Anonymous||reply 74||11/13/2010|
I am the newly out young New York City homosexual who returns to his flyover town. At dinner, I will proceed to tell my family how their town and their lives suck, because they don't live in New York City.
|by Anonymous||reply 75||11/13/2010|
I'm the weird looking chubby kid who says totally inappropriate things. And if you don't acknowledge them, I'll just say them again--only louder: "Hey, you know what? My dad looks really funny naked." (Pause) "MY DAD LOOKS REALLY FUNNY NAKED." (Pause) "MY DAD HAS A CROOKED PENIS!!!"
|by Anonymous||reply 76||11/13/2010|
R12 my family always does a prime rib roast for Christmas with horseradish and au jus sauce of course.
|by Anonymous||reply 77||11/13/2010|
We are the five or six televisions scattered throughout the house; each of us is on and tuned to different channels and is being watched by different assemblies of relatives. We are the only thing that keeps the entire family from realizing how little they have in common with one another.
|by Anonymous||reply 78||11/13/2010|
I'm great Aunt Mildred. I smell like a combination of bug spray and mothballs. I speak of long-dead relatives as if they are still here.
|by Anonymous||reply 79||11/13/2010|
Im the cunty mother-in law from hell. I wont make a genuine smile until it's time to leave.
|by Anonymous||reply 80||11/13/2010|
I'm the awkward conversation between the straight fat white men of the family and the gay brother (and his boyfriend) who've come in from the city. I fill the space when the gay boys don't know whether to sit in the living room and watch the game or go into the kitchen and help the women cook. Eventually, the boys help with the cooking which makes everyone sigh with relief.
|by Anonymous||reply 81||11/13/2010|
I'm the Brussels Sprouts Parmesan Gratin that the grown gay son brings - "city people's food" they call me - and every last crumb of me is devoured.
|by Anonymous||reply 82||11/13/2010|
I'm the Latina mother-in-law who will make a big show of speaking only Spanish in front of my son's gringa wife, even though I speak only English at all other times.
Eventually my son will ask me why I'm doing this, and I will storm out of the room dramatically.
|by Anonymous||reply 83||11/13/2010|
I am the evil cat who somehow gets out of a bedroom and makes a beeline for the old aunt who hates cats with a passion. After traumatizing screaming auntie I run into the kitchen, jump on a counter, and cough up fur balls on the turkey. In the future my owners will look back on this and laugh. Just not today.
|by Anonymous||reply 84||11/13/2010|
I am the unmarried black-sheep of the family who has finally accepted he is gay. I return in a util-i-kilt with a beard. I'm also bringing a CookiePuss icecream cake that mom doesn't know what to do with.
I take the younger kits to Goofy Golf while the men talk about how Obama is ruining the country and the women cook and gossip.
I bring the kids home after minigolf and pizza.
I get yelled at for spoiling their meal, and have to sit at the kids table to "make sure they behave!"
I tell them corny jokes and listen to everything they say.
In ten years they remember me with more fondness than the other relatives.
|by Anonymous||reply 85||11/13/2010|
lol, r84. I just snorted coffee out my nose at that one.
|by Anonymous||reply 86||11/13/2010|
I am the extremely smart nerd who registers somewhere on the autism spectrum. I have no emotional connections to my family and I hate being around people. I will still go to Thanksgiving dinner because it's the proper thing to do. But I will spend the entire time shifting left, right, forward or backward to ensure that all other humans remain outside the invisible circle I drew around myself when I was 6. I also won't make eye contact with anyone, even when they are gushing over the new video game I designed for Xbox. I will be so relieved when I can finally go to my home and play it.
|by Anonymous||reply 87||11/13/2010|
I am the person who bought the turkey and cooked it at Mom's house. I am now seething with rage because Mom is sending home all the leftovers with my slacker younger sister, who brought nothing and sat around on her ass drinking Bailey's in her coffee all day.
|by Anonymous||reply 88||11/13/2010|
I am the potato peels that will (once again) clog the drain when someone attempts to put me down the garbage disposal.
|by Anonymous||reply 89||11/13/2010|
I'm the guest from Canada being subjected to a second Thanksgiving dinner.
|by Anonymous||reply 90||11/13/2010|
"What do you want done with the giblets?%0D %0D "It's not pronounced giblets, it's pronounced jiblets."%0D %0D "Oh. I thought it was giblets."
|by Anonymous||reply 93||11/13/2010|
I'm the movie section from the newspaper that Uncle Phil will scan in hopes of finding something he and girlfriend Maryann can see late Thanksgiving afternoon or evening.. as a way to escape from the Thanksgiving lunacy (and the leftovers that will be hauled back out at 8PM) they have endured today.
|by Anonymous||reply 94||11/13/2010|
I am the teenage daughter who refuses to help with the clean up because it is "sexist". I wish I had thought of this years ago.
|by Anonymous||reply 95||11/13/2010|
I'm the random remark about the amount of sage in the dressing that turns into a full-blown fight 45 minutes later.
|by Anonymous||reply 96||11/13/2010|
Im the soggy vegetable on the back burner that no one wanted.
|by Anonymous||reply 97||11/13/2010|
You sound wonderful, r85.
|by Anonymous||reply 98||11/13/2010|
I'm the Tony and honorary Oscar winning actress Lauren Bacall. I am the one who will refuse to eat with those nutballs who also inhabit the Jewish Care Center in Westchester, NY where I currently (and unfortunately) reside. I will make life miserable for my sons and daughters for forgetting all about me and putting their miserable pathetic lives before me!! Fuck em all!! All of them!! The nurses, the doctors, the rehab therapists.... my kids..%0D and most of all fuck you Rex Reed!!!%0D Now.. where's MY copy of the TV APPLAUSE?!
|by Anonymous||reply 99||11/13/2010|
I'm the dinner rolls that my mother forgot about in the oven, burning to a crisp until someone at the table finally scrunches their nose and says "what's that smell?"
|by Anonymous||reply 100||11/13/2010|
I'm the little shreds of parsley that mom puts on the individual butter pats (for the rolls) cause she feels it 'classes things up' a bit.
|by Anonymous||reply 101||11/13/2010|
I'm wayward Uncle Ned. I drank ten beers, a shot of whiskey, a bottle of vanilla extract and then tried to get even drunker by eating a jar of cherries.
|by Anonymous||reply 102||11/13/2010|
I'm the can of whipped cream that someone forgot to purchase. My absence will lead to loud groans and findings of fault when the pumpkin pie is served plain. Someone will end up stomping away from the table, leaving everyone else to pick away unenthusiastically at the dried pumpkin pie with the wrong kind of fork.
|by Anonymous||reply 103||11/13/2010|
I'm the wonderful cranberry ice sorbet recipe that both Jim in Kansas City and his sister Susan in Tulsa wish they could have gotten before their mother passed away.
|by Anonymous||reply 104||11/13/2010|
I am your father's nutjob cunt of a wife who has ruined every Thanksgiving since 1987.
I will monopolize every conversation with my loud barking of Fox News right-wing talking points, and I will express my horror at the idea anyone would want a cocktail or a glass of wine.
I will passive-aggressively refuse to serve dinner until 10:30 or 11:00 at night because I don't like other people controlling my timetable for doing things.
Today is all about me and I will not tolerate drunks in my house!
|by Anonymous||reply 105||11/13/2010|
I am the fruit filled green or red jello that everyone has on their plate that everyone hates. I sit there mostly uneaten.
|by Anonymous||reply 106||11/13/2010|
Im the sweet potato pie, side eying the pumpkin pie.
|by Anonymous||reply 107||11/13/2010|
I'm your mother on her fourth glass of white wine, pulling you into the guest bedroom to weep that she thinks your father is "losing it" and that she has to do "everything around the house" and that he "refuses to see a doctor." She's been saying this for the past 15 years.
|by Anonymous||reply 108||11/13/2010|
I'm the drunken fat loser brother who makes the nearly unfathomably bizarre sexual remark about his ex-wife, who happens to be there along with her new boyfriend so that the brother can see his daughter for Thanksgiving.
|by Anonymous||reply 109||11/13/2010|
|by Anonymous||reply 110||11/13/2010|
We are Mom and oldest son, both drunk out of our skulls and nodding out in our mashed potatoes. Soon everyone will have had enough of our shit and drag us into the guest room and lay us out on the twin beds like a pair of corpses. Then they will go merrily on with their dinner and not even save us any pumpkin pie.
|by Anonymous||reply 111||11/13/2010|
I'm the moistness that develops in your mothers panties when the possibility of you getting married comes up.
|by Anonymous||reply 112||11/13/2010|
I'm the recently widowed seventy-something mother-in-law who has more than one glass of wine for the first time in decades and gets freshman-year-falling-down drunk. I'll spend most of the night on the floor in the bathroom. But don't worry about me. I'm fine.
|by Anonymous||reply 113||11/13/2010|
[quote] I'm the moistness that develops in your mothers panties when the possibility of you getting married comes up.
..and I'm the immediate evaporation of that moistness when she realizes you mean getting married to another man.
|by Anonymous||reply 114||11/13/2010|
I'm your brother's new wife, who excuses herself every half hour to go outside and have a cigarette, while your mother looks out the back window and tsks loudly. Halfway through dinner, I excuse myself by suddenly announcing in my deep smokers voice "Oh Gawd, I fuhgut the whipt creeyum! I'll go get sum mowah frum the stowah!" startling everyone at the table. After I leave, your brother grumbles as he pushed himself away from the table, "She's going to do those damn scratch tickets, we don't have that kind of money goddammit!"
|by Anonymous||reply 115||11/13/2010|
I'm the 15-year-old nephew who brings up global warming because he knows it will get the New York liberal Jews and the Wisconsin Lutheran Dittoheads to break the fragile holiday truce. I do it because I'm bored.
|by Anonymous||reply 116||11/13/2010|
I'm the brother that takes a cab from the airport. The other two both get picked up.
|by Anonymous||reply 117||11/13/2010|
I'm the normally taciturn aunt who downs one too many glasses of pinot grigio and decides to blurt out "I have cancer" just as everyone starts eating.
|by Anonymous||reply 118||11/13/2010|
I'm the 12 year old daughter of your mother's new "friend" Mel and I look just like Miss Tatum O'Neal circa Paper Moon. I belt out "I'm a woman!" as I come out of the bathroom, after spying your mother's Enjoli. I then proceed to comment loudly on all the dishes being served that I don't like. Your mother pulls you aside and threatens to send you to your room if you don't ask me to play outside after dinner.
|by Anonymous||reply 119||11/13/2010|
I think this started out as Lets Pretend and morphed into Lets Share.
Lets Share is funnier.
|by Anonymous||reply 120||11/13/2010|
LOL, R116. My sister used to bring up Richard Nixon at the table just to make the grown-ups argue.%0D %0D I'm that same sister's annual frantic phone call looking for mom's creamed onion recipe. She'll scribble it down on the back of an envelope and throw it out again necessitating this same phone call next year. Someone should embroider it on a pillow for her.
|by Anonymous||reply 121||11/13/2010|
I am the BRAT infant with no manners and runs around screaming at the table while his mother simply says "Dudley, stop it! You don't want me to get up." but she never gets up. And you want to give that brat one hard SLAP that would make him cry and go to bed right away!
|by Anonymous||reply 122||11/13/2010|
Okay, I'll (over)share. When my partner and I finally got tired of dealing with my dysfunctional family at Thanksgiving, we decided one year to go to Mexico instead. My mother then announced (to my 2 sisters and my nieces and nephews) that she was no longer observing Thanksgiving because I had "ruined it for everyone" and there was no point in trying to have a family dinner if people were just going to "abandon their family and toot off on a vacation". %0D %0D When we found out, we decided to host Thanksgiving at our house the next year, but Mom refused to attend. My younger sister declined in order to show solidarity with my mom. My olther sister showed up with her 2 oldest kids who snarked about the dinner, and Mom called about every half our to say things like her microwave wasn't working so she couldn't hear up her turkey Lean Cuisine.%0D %0D After dinner we got rid of everybody, packaged up the leftovers and "dropped by" Mom's house, but she told us she didn't want any of the food and that we might as well just give it to the homeless guys down on the corner. So we did.%0D %0D Next year we went back to Mexico and have done so every year since. %0D
|by Anonymous||reply 123||11/13/2010|
Hello! Brined Turkey here again. After being carefully dry brined for three days, the homosexual son lovingly prepares me with a sprinkling of fresh rosemary, garlic and olive oil. I am placed in the oven, and I know I will be delicious.
Unfortunately, the nearly blind mother sets the oven to self clean instead of bake. I know I will not be delicious, but reduced to cinders because the oven door is now locked.
The homosexual son, now into his second scotch because of the dying father screaming that his last Thanksgiving is ruined, downs a third and suggests ordering Chinese for delivery.
The straight younger brother somehow figures out how to cancel the self clean function and I am allowed to leisurely roast. And I am delicious.
|by Anonymous||reply 124||11/13/2010|
I'm the Tofurky!
|by Anonymous||reply 125||11/13/2010|
I'm the giant oil barrell your Dad fixed up into a turkey deep fryer that caught on fire and burnt down the gazebo.
|by Anonymous||reply 126||11/13/2010|
I'm the siser who helped Mom cook the meal, lead the conversation at the table and cleaned the kitchen by myself. The parents aren't nearly as crazy as you think, they just want their house back. The joy you feel at leaving is nothing compared to the joy I feel at watching you go.
|by Anonymous||reply 127||11/13/2010|
We never had alcohol at Thanksgiving. Things would have been so much more fun if we had.
|by Anonymous||reply 128||11/13/2010|
I'm the earrings!
|by Anonymous||reply 129||11/13/2010|
I'm the Caftans!
|by Anonymous||reply 130||11/13/2010|
I'm the uncle who will get into a yelling match with his brother over my verbally disciplining his out of control sons.
|by Anonymous||reply 131||11/13/2010|
I'm the angry butch lesbian girlfriend, black guy, or other socially unacceptable significant other the college aged daughter brings home. Don't mind me, I'll just be making everyone awkward and tense.
|by Anonymous||reply 132||11/13/2010|
I'm the mother-in-law bitch from hell who insists on bringing an ENTIRE separate Thanksgiving dinner complete with turkey so "My son can get a good meal."
|by Anonymous||reply 133||11/13/2010|
I'm the chair splintered when the fat drunk loser brother sat down a bit hard while proclaiming the house "kind of a shitbox."
|by Anonymous||reply 134||11/13/2010|
R128, I can't imagine a holiday meal without a selection of nice wines. Was your family religious or something?
|by Anonymous||reply 135||11/13/2010|
some people are from another world r135
|by Anonymous||reply 136||11/13/2010|
I'm the little girl who always has a finger up her bum or up her nose, and I'm going to help Mommy with all the food.
|by Anonymous||reply 137||11/13/2010|
I'm the annoying relative who has to modify every family recipe to be fat free and sugar free and then brag about how no one can tell the difference. I and my family are also the fattest people in the house in spite of all our artificially sweetened and chemically-laden "healthy" eating habits.
|by Anonymous||reply 138||11/13/2010|
I'm the two elderly nuns my (non-catholic) parents invite for Thanksgiving one year. You'll be tense around us until you realize we're drinking like Irish Sailors and know more dirty jokes than the rest of you put together.
|by Anonymous||reply 139||11/13/2010|
I'm the obscenely red Jello, Cranberry and whipped cream dessert. I'm pretty good but I stain something fierce. Your clean freak of a mother in law insists everyone have some of me and then she spends the meal watching me quiver on people's spoons, did I mention I stain?
|by Anonymous||reply 140||11/13/2010|
I'm the narcissistic nightmare of a sister-in-law who's about to make an interesting conversation with a relative you haven't seen in awhile ALL. ABOUT. HER.
|by Anonymous||reply 141||11/13/2010|
I'm the turkey that fell on the floor as I was being transferred from the pan to the carving board. Don't tell anybody in the dining room.
|by Anonymous||reply 142||11/13/2010|
I'm my Dad, praising my Aunt's "not too bad from a box" mashed potatoes, which she actually made fresh.
|by Anonymous||reply 143||11/13/2010|
I'm the narcissistic aunt at R141. Oh, this that's right. This is the first the first Thanksgiving you've had without your mother. I remember every holiday I've had since my Ed passed away. Here I'll tell you about them all now. I'm also fond of saying "to make a long story short" when I intend to rattle on for another 20 minutes. Pretty much until you internally scream for mercy. Say have you lost weight? I hope you did it on purpose and you're not ill, say did I tell you about my bunion surgery?
|by Anonymous||reply 144||11/13/2010|
I am the peacemaker of the family, who realizes your "narcissistic aunt" is really just clumsily trying to commiserate with / relate to you, and doesn't mean to talk about herself so much.
|by Anonymous||reply 145||11/13/2010|
No, 145, she is not. She really is cuntzilla.
|by Anonymous||reply 146||11/13/2010|
I'm the gray-haired, NPR tote-bag-carrying aunt who seethes with resentment when people refuse to take even a single bite of Susan Stamberg's cranberry relish.
|by Anonymous||reply 147||11/13/2010|
I am the Turducken! Wait till everybody sees me!
|by Anonymous||reply 148||11/13/2010|
I'm the "Christmas Cheer" scented candle lit at 10am this morning. My purpose is to cover up the fact that the upstairs bathroom flooded a month ago before you even noticed. I'm cloying and the "undernotes of gingerbread and spice" make even swallowing a bite of food difficult. I make the turkey taste like it was stuffed with pine needles.
|by Anonymous||reply 149||11/13/2010|
I'm the still-frozen container of Cool Whip that, after a day of minor mishaps, is the final straw that causes mom to run out to the garage with the rest of the Riesling.
|by Anonymous||reply 150||11/13/2010|
R4, I love you.%0D %0D
|by Anonymous||reply 151||11/13/2010|
I'aM the 33 YR oLd neece wit down sindRome, stiLL FOrcEd to sit aT kiddez tabel.
|by Anonymous||reply 152||11/13/2010|
I am the senile pickled Aunt Trudy, the knitting addicted drunk.%0D %0D I show up bearing gifts for every guest, a knitted wine bottle cozy complete with straw holder.%0D %0D I then proceed to show everyone how it's used, opening a bottle of wine for myself, slipping it into my cozy, putting in the straw, and happily walk away to plop my pickled ass in front of the tv to wait for dinner. Only takes me 1/2 hour to get through bottle #1.
|by Anonymous||reply 153||11/13/2010|
I'm grandpa in the wheelchair who can no longer hear or smell my own farts and who sizes-up all the male asses in the room and looks at the nicely tanned turkey on the table with it's big open end and thinks that wouldn't work at all, not when there's so much tight hole in the dining room, not that a fellow hasn't fucked a dead thing or two, and who doesn't turn red because he can't and doesn't give away anything when his asshole goth nephew, sitting next to him, his head bowed for grace, slips his hand on his thigh and massages around.
|by Anonymous||reply 154||11/13/2010|
I'm the bottle of Arbor Mist that only the hostess enjoys, because she's never really had a life and doesn't know any better.
|by Anonymous||reply 155||11/13/2010|
I'm the remnants of the ranch dressing in black plastic circular "relish tray" consisting of dried-up veggies cut up by the local Wal-Mart delicatessen staff who constantly forget to wash their hands after their single bathroom break for the day.
|by Anonymous||reply 156||11/13/2010|
R40, you, or someone else, posted that same thing last year. It was my favorite post from that thread.%0D %0D Except last year it was "eye watering deuce"...and I believe the cat had a name. Anyone remember?
|by Anonymous||reply 157||11/13/2010|
I'm the creepy Uncle who says "I like to stare at people while they eat" and then does it.
|by Anonymous||reply 158||11/13/2010|
I'm the humorless waitperson who has to wait on your damn family who decided it would be so much easier to eat in a restaurant than at home. I drew the short straw, so I have to work today. This sort of family drama should be left at home. You don't look like you tip much or at all, so you'll be thankful you don't see what we do to your food in the kitchen.
|by Anonymous||reply 159||11/13/2010|
I'm the 21-month-old kid who caught a horrible cold at daycare and whose parents didn't have the sense to keep at home. There is a river of snot running from my nose to my navel, despite my best efforts to eat it.
I am touching everything.
|by Anonymous||reply 160||11/13/2010|
I'm your sister's dog (she's hosting this year because Mom is getting older and you and your partner and your brother and sister-in-law have done it the last four years and it really hurts her feelings that she keeps getting passed over, but she insisted you bring just about everything anyway because she's really busy at work and she didn't have time to clean or even clear off the table before you got there at eight a.m. and her husband's not feeling well because he's coming down with something - yeah, right, since he got home at three in the morning you later learn) that relentlessly circles the table, squeezes underneath it, and begs. I stink and have matted fur. Your sister keeps telling you to go ahead and feed it because, "she's part of the family, and it's her Thanksgiving, too! WHY WON'T YOU GIVE HER AN OLIVE, CHARLIE?!?"
|by Anonymous||reply 161||11/13/2010|
I'm the big fight about texting at the table.
|by Anonymous||reply 162||11/13/2010|
I'm the diarrhea. And I came from Turduckinstan.
|by Anonymous||reply 163||11/13/2010|
I'm the turkey. Picture me as kind of a 'roided out bird version of Arnold Schwarzeneggar.%0D %0D By the way, I deeply begrudge dying for your meal before I had a chance to get my first piece of cloaca.
|by Anonymous||reply 164||11/13/2010|
I'm the cat, sharpening my claws and plotting who my next victim will be.
|by Anonymous||reply 165||11/13/2010|
I'm Secret Santa, I will be forcing everyone to pick a name out of a hat, and by the end of the night, everyone will somehow find out who drew each other's names. This will happen for ten years.%0D %0D Years later, the entire family will not speak to each other because of a series of imagined insults stemming from an increasing lack of boundaries, and Thanksgiving will end. Each family member will find some way of celebrating with remnants of their own immediate families, friends, or neighbors.
|by Anonymous||reply 166||11/13/2010|
I am the Thanksgiving prayer that no want really wants, asked for, yet no has the nerve to tell the Born Again sister-in-law, 'Thanks, but no thanks, we are not religious people.' I will fall on deaf ears.
|by Anonymous||reply 167||11/13/2010|
I'm your mother, loaded, doing her impression of Yvonne de Carlo singing "I'm Still here"!
|by Anonymous||reply 168||11/13/2010|
I'm the in and out of jail cousin who shows up uninvited and you have to follow foot to foot because if you don't anything not nailed down is as good as gone. I'm incredibly nice and cheery with everyone because I'm going to ask any and everyone, including children, for money before I leave.
|by Anonymous||reply 169||11/13/2010|
I'm the sage. Everyone argues about how much of me is supposed to be in the dressing.
|by Anonymous||reply 170||11/13/2010|
I'm my reddened eyeballs, fresh from smoking a pre-dinner joint on the porch with my siblings. Mom will make a tsk-ing comment about me, but not my brother or sister's equally blodshot peepers.
|by Anonymous||reply 171||11/13/2010|
I'm the shivering little dog that came with Great Aunt Mary, that snaps at, and then bites, one of the wretched uncontrolled screaming children of a tightly wound 35 year old woman and her nagged to death, douche bag husband.
|by Anonymous||reply 172||11/13/2010|
I'm Barry Sanders. Thanksgiving hasn't been the same since I retired.
|by Anonymous||reply 173||11/13/2010|
I too, am the diarrhea. I come from the pumpkin pie (the dairy) and I will strike in the middle of a traffic jam on your way home from mom's.
I am every red light, every slow driver, and every turn in the road that will keep you from the toilet.
I am the last 50-yard dash from the car to the front (locked) door to the bathroom.
It is a race you will lose.
|by Anonymous||reply 174||11/13/2010|
oooo, r174 I have a solution. Before leaving, change into your crappiest (oops!) pants. and put plastic down in the car.
|by Anonymous||reply 175||11/13/2010|
I'm the good china, and this is the only day of the year I leave the cupboard.
Someday I'll be yours. I know you hate me and you'll never use me, but once you get me you're stuck with me forever.
|by Anonymous||reply 176||11/13/2010|
i'm the slob-of-a-pothead-niece's pothead bi-polar boyfriend. my phone will ring at the specially arranged table full of delicious food which is full of people i don't know. instead of getting up from the table & leaving the room, i sit there talking loudly to the caller as i arrange a drug deal.
|by Anonymous||reply 177||11/13/2010|
I am the brother who sits silently, not saying a word as the 6 other people at the table talk. Halfway through the meal, I will disappear without saying a word. No one knows where I am, but everyone is wondering. Through my silence and absence, I make myself more obtrusive than a slobbering drunk who yaps nonstop through the whole dinner.
|by Anonymous||reply 178||11/13/2010|
I'm the DL reader who will refer to this thread whenever possible to get a much-needed laugh in the midst of my mother's passive-aggressive mentions of her friends' grandchildren.
|by Anonymous||reply 179||11/13/2010|
I am the white meat on your Aunt Gladys' turkey. I am so dry you have to take a sip of water after each bite in order to swallow me.
|by Anonymous||reply 181||11/13/2010|
I'm the valium left over from that day surgery you had in February. You've been saving me for a special occasion. As you're shaving on Thanskgiving morning, you start thinking about me; you realize that I need to come out of the medicine cabinet, that there's no way you'll survive this day without me. You take me about 30 minutes before you start driving to mom's, figuring that you'll feel my effects by the time you get there. I keep you relaxed, mellow, and somewhat detached for the whole four hours. Then you start thinking about Christmas and realize, with dismay, that I was the last valium in the container. You start thinking about other drugs you can score by December. Pot is the leading contender, but you're open to other options if something interesting turns up. And you'll check my pill container when you get back to see if any refills are allowed.
|by Anonymous||reply 182||11/14/2010|
I'm little Dakota who has to stand up and sing before anyone can eat.
Thanksgiving Day is coming
So Mister Turkey said
Now I must be real careful
Or I will lose my head
|by Anonymous||reply 183||11/14/2010|
I am this thread, and am a favorite DL tradition. You're welcome, R179.
|by Anonymous||reply 184||11/14/2010|
i'm the 8 year old kid of the ignorant slut who is your brother's fuck-friend. i am loud, and love to run. i think it's funny to step on your toes. i do this b/c you smiled and talked to me, and i want even more attention, even if it's the bad kind. everybody hates my guts, b/c i spilled my milk, almost caused both myself and your mother to have 3rd degree burns as i ran past the open oven as she took out the turkey, and keep asking for more pie, even though i haven't eaten anything else. my mother is oblivious to all of this and totally ignores me. she hasn't looked at or spoken to me since we got there. she is only interested in getting cock and having someone else support her lazy frau ass. i swing from the arms of your mom's antique rocking chair until it makes a cracking noise. i laugh, and swing even harder until another family member picks it up and puts it in a bedroom. i continually try to pick up the cat by its tail. thankfully, i fall asleep on the couch soon after lunch. i will be long gone before everyone realizes i'm a bed-wetter and pissed all over the newly upholstered sofa. i also broke an heirloom piece of crystal, but i put that behind the couch filled with leftover brussel sprouts and mashed potatoes in it. this will become obvious by the stench and swarm of fruit flies a week later. you'll never see ME again, but i will be replaced by another rotten kid whose frau slut mother is fucking your brother. merry christmas suckers!
|by Anonymous||reply 185||11/14/2010|
I'm your old bicycle, skateboard, trampoline, or BB gun out in the garage.
The combination of liquor, boredom, and the desire to show off will almost certainly get me off the shelf, and get you in the emergency room by 4pm.
|by Anonymous||reply 186||11/14/2010|
I am the Pepto Bismol sitting on a shelf at the drug store. Nobody thinks to purchase me until it is too late.
|by Anonymous||reply 187||11/14/2010|
I am the cute gay hipster that has nowhere else to go, and tagged along with my faghag who thinks she's setting me up with the host, who's the only other gay there. %0D %0D I give the host a passing glance of interest at first, but it suddenly wanes when I decide that he's much too old, braying, and weird...and ultimately not cool enough to make any further eye contact with.
|by Anonymous||reply 188||11/14/2010|
I loved that, r85.
|by Anonymous||reply 189||11/14/2010|
I'm the unspeakable hope of millions of TV viewers that one of those big balloons will crash into the side of a building this year to break up the tedium of the Annual Macy's Parade.
|by Anonymous||reply 190||11/14/2010|
I'm your iPhone. Everyone can see how much you use me. I'm your distraction. I'm your escape. I love the feel of your hands all over me. I sense your need. Use me. I am your bitch. Happy Thanksgiving.
|by Anonymous||reply 191||11/14/2010|
Late night bump.
|by Anonymous||reply 192||11/14/2010|
what the hell was r184? His wheelchair bound grandfather wanted to fuck the turkey and then the nephew molested the grandfather? Really really sick shit.
|by Anonymous||reply 193||11/14/2010|
|by Anonymous||reply 194||11/14/2010|
Thank you, DL. Thank you!
Great thread. I've laughed a lot.
|by Anonymous||reply 195||11/14/2010|
I am the plane ticket you and your BF bought in August to go to New Orleans, since one more TDay with your respective families would have resulted in prison time.
|by Anonymous||reply 196||11/14/2010|
I'm the older sister of he gay brother who was married for 10 years but had no children and who is now divorced, meaning that the 64 year old mother of the gay brother and older sister is STILL without grandchildren, which drives her insane because her best friends have grandchildren and never stop relating stories, showing pictures, etc. of their grandchildren.
In a weird twist of fate, I am now the disappointment in the family (not my gay brother who mom and dad had initial reservations about, but then got over it) because I have not birthed grandchildren and I have no excuse as does my gay brother.
|by Anonymous||reply 197||11/14/2010|
This thread is a PRICELESS MINE of information about American life.
|by Anonymous||reply 198||11/14/2010|
R173 Nailed it.
|by Anonymous||reply 200||11/14/2010|
R123 makes me really glad for my family. Jesus Christ, what is *wrong* with them?!? That's like something out of a HBO Series, not real life.
|by Anonymous||reply 201||11/14/2010|
I'm the yearly argument over the best way to load the dishwasher. Mother thinks I'm not an argument, but a "helpful suggestion", but daughter-in-law is pretty sure I'm an argument.
|by Anonymous||reply 202||11/14/2010|
I'm the soya kebabs (alternative to turkey) that were thrown unceremoniously out of the french doors during dinner without the vegetarian mother of the house having noticed -but will be brought up every fucking year since as a topic of some hilarity whilst the vegetarian mother titters politely and mentally plots their demise.
|by Anonymous||reply 203||11/14/2010|
I'm the salmonella poisoning, waiting patiently to visit the entire family. All because Grandma stuffed the turkey 3 days in advance. Dumb fucking bitch.
|by Anonymous||reply 204||11/14/2010|
I'm the father who still can't be cordial to your mother, even though they divorced 20 years ago and he deserved it.
|by Anonymous||reply 205||11/14/2010|
I am the dual-diagnosed Borderline Personality Disordered former fiancee of the son who will never forgive his parents for being big old drunks. I've been here every year since 1989, and, even though I am a giant pain in the ass who cuts all of my food (that which I can eat - I have many food allergies) into wee little bites, every one of which I write down in my moleskin notebook, I am, when all is said and done, charming.
|by Anonymous||reply 206||11/14/2010|
I'm the awkward conversation as everyone at the dinner table treads lightly around the older people with dementia, just hoping that they don't lose it in that 1 hour time frame when everybody is together with no possibility of distraction.
|by Anonymous||reply 207||11/14/2010|
I'm the paper turkey. I was made by your nephew's little hand laid flat on the construction paper then carefully traced and colored to vaguely resemble a turkey. Or a peacock,it really doesn't matter.
You'll see me on the refrigerator door and suddenly need to wipe your eyes.
|by Anonymous||reply 208||11/14/2010|
I'm the "exotic" looking little boy who gets more and more "exotic" looking each year. I was "conceived" right after mom got back from her trip with the girls to Rio. %0D %0D I don't look like my Irish mom or my German dad or anything like my cousins, but grandma always says we have Sicilian and Native American blood in our family and you just *stutter* *nervous giggle* never know with genetics. %0D %0D But I am clearly the best looking one in the family, that must be why my dad is always staring at me and my granddad is constantly giving me the side eye while raising his eyebrow at my dad.
|by Anonymous||reply 209||11/14/2010|
r204, make your own turkey then, you rancid cunt.
|by Anonymous||reply 210||11/14/2010|
I am the bi-polar uncle who thinks Frank Sinatra bailed him out of prison in the 1960s. When my brothers suggest that Sinatra was unfaithful to his wives, I will become indignant and start an argument that carries over to the other side of the house and finally culminates in telling an in-law to shut the fuck up as I huff and puff my way out the door.
This fight will have consequences for Christmas, when the in-law, who is technically not an in-law since she divorced my brother, decides not to attend because I have told everyone for two months that I am still angry at her for whatever it is she did that made me tell her to shut the fuck up.
This will, in turn, cause her adult children to stay home with her on Christmas, which will lead to a whole new fight, which thankfully no one holds me accountable for causing, the same way no one has held me accountable for anything in my life. I will also ask all of my brothers and sisters for money, since I am spending my disability on lottery tickets, wine and beer and possibly escorts.
|by Anonymous||reply 212||11/14/2010|
I'm the ghost of last year's mashed potatoes.
All the kids will search the ceiling for signs of me while sneaking glances at the gay uncle. It was he, stuck eating at the kid's table, who suggested the 'Pin The Spud On The Ceiling' game.
It is he who will tell them the cast of Twilight is gay.
|by Anonymous||reply 213||11/14/2010|
I'm the repressed sexual memory that reveals itself when your dad sucks the remnants of meat from a drumstick!!!
|by Anonymous||reply 214||11/14/2010|
I'm the one who says, "Look, this is NOT the time to be having a heated political discussion! Let's all just keep this time together pleasant, OK?"
|by Anonymous||reply 215||11/14/2010|
I'm the Asian exchange student from your cousin's college whom your Aunt keeps referring to as your cousin's "girlfriend." I'll play along.
|by Anonymous||reply 216||11/14/2010|
Im the hot brother in-law with the huge dick. I pretend not to notice my sister's brother and his partner staring at my bulging crotch.
|by Anonymous||reply 217||11/14/2010|
I'm the virgin great Aunt so naive about sex she doesn't realize she's touching you quite innapropriately.
|by Anonymous||reply 218||11/14/2010|
oh she knows it r218
|by Anonymous||reply 219||11/14/2010|
She did it when you were 14, too, R219.
|by Anonymous||reply 220||11/14/2010|
Oh god. I'd never considered this. And I was 14.
|by Anonymous||reply 221||11/14/2010|
|by Anonymous||reply 222||11/14/2010|
I am the strange unscripted, inaudible "play" a pair of obnoxious 8 year olds puts on that ends in a hair-pulling, screaming, fight that unnerves the hostess's cat so much it starts pulling its fur out.
|by Anonymous||reply 223||11/14/2010|
What do you mean, inappropriately, r218? We'll be the judge of that.
|by Anonymous||reply 224||11/14/2010|
I'm the DVD copy of THE WIZARD OF OZ that will be played for the children as a way to entertain them while the adults have drinks and chit chat before the big feast.
|by Anonymous||reply 225||11/14/2010|
I'm the trip you will take to the bathroom to escape an awkward conversation.
|by Anonymous||reply 226||11/14/2010|
I'm the awkward silence that follows the unexpected Glenn Beck quote from the otherwise perfectly nice auntie.
|by Anonymous||reply 227||11/14/2010|
I am the bookworm relative who would rather read than join into any conversation.
It is almost unbearable to sit at the table without a book or magazine.
|by Anonymous||reply 228||11/14/2010|
I'm the jarred gravy close at hand in case somebody fucks up the pan like last year.
|by Anonymous||reply 229||11/14/2010|
I'm the gay uncle secretly wishing I could watch that Wizard of Oz DVD with the kids rather than sit with the adults.
|by Anonymous||reply 230||11/14/2010|
I'm the issue of circumcision, or genital mutilation, creeping in from thread about banning it in SF. I'll somehow get mentioned by a drama-loving sort at the table this year.
|by Anonymous||reply 231||11/14/2010|
I'm the dog working the room. The fat people don't drop food, but do make fun noises when I stuff my nose in their crotches under the table.
At least two people will suggest I be put in the basement. The children will let me back upstairs and I will come up chewing a litter box cigar.
|by Anonymous||reply 232||11/14/2010|
I'm the pies your sister in law bought and is trying to pass off as home made.
You're not fooling anyone, bitch.
|by Anonymous||reply 233||11/14/2010|
I'm the cat who jumps up on the counter and starts munching on the hors d'oeuvres whilst everyone has their backs turned. I'll be shooed off but not before the spermophobic uncle sees me. The family will hear about this for the next four years until said uncle is too weak to make it for dinner (or so he says).
The family will be forced to endure the uncle's hand-wringing and general whinging about the unsanitary conditions of my Auntie's spic and span house. The uncle will hesitate before putting anything in his mouth, complaining that he has a very weak constitution.
He always pinged with me.
|by Anonymous||reply 234||11/14/2010|
I am control freak martyr Aunt Phyllis who spends the entire day in the kitchen cooking and washing the dishes and won't even take 15 minutes to sit down at the table with everyone for dinner.
|by Anonymous||reply 235||11/14/2010|
R4 must be a real BLAST at parties.
|by Anonymous||reply 236||11/14/2010|
A spermophobic uncle who pings, Ciaran?
|by Anonymous||reply 238||11/14/2010|
I am the "authentic" mincemeat pie made by the aunt who's on a history kick.
|by Anonymous||reply 239||11/14/2010|
Spermophobia is a fear of germs R238, not a fear of sperm. It is a word that has recently been displaced by germophobia because the idea of using sperm in conversation is not appealing to uptight people. These are the same people who have tried to change the pronunciation of Uranus. Sorry. Didn't mean to derail the thread.
|by Anonymous||reply 240||11/14/2010|
I'm the alcoholic step father that stopped drinking for a few years but is now drinking again. I'm the one your mother told you she would choose if it was between me and her four kids. I will loudly yell at relatives that I don't like and I will be distracted all day by a football game that is blaring on the TV. When I'm not around, your mother will almost start to weep and say how she "just can't take this anymore" and you will look at her and think that every time your step dad called her stupid, it was true.
I will also lead the family in prayer even though I'm an atheist and 1/2 of the family is too. I will force you all to hold hands around the dinner and bow your fucking heads and say fucking grace, goddamnit. I will then put my salt substitute on my food (too many heart attacks) and will have another glass of wine and yell at your good for nothing brother and his lazy girlfriend who is falling asleep on the couch. I will insist on using the "n" word at least once during the meal and then I'll remember that my daughter is dating a black man and feel sorry for myself because she hasn't spoken to me in years.
I'm my sisters and sister's in laws who are forced every year to clean up while the men lay around on the couches watching football and demanding pie.
I'm the sister who sends text messages to me and says, "I want to kill them all."
|by Anonymous||reply 241||11/14/2010|
Thank you, Ciaran. I've learned something.
|by Anonymous||reply 242||11/14/2010|
[quote]I'm the gay uncle secretly wishing I could watch that Wizard of Oz DVD with the kids rather than sit with the adults.%0D %0D LOL!
|by Anonymous||reply 243||11/14/2010|
I am my spinster aunt who picks up my iPhone which, left innocently enough on the sideboard, rings during dinner. It is a call from my boyfriend made from his mother's cell phone which he has linked as a joke to a ring tone of "It's Raining Men" while displaying a picture of his erect penis.
I hold the phone up to the assembled family and loudly announces:
"People! People! One of you has a call!"
|by Anonymous||reply 244||11/14/2010|
I'm the heirloom Irish linen tablecloth which gets stained every Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. No matter how mant times I am washed, I am never clean.
|by Anonymous||reply 245||11/14/2010|
I'm the butter knife I hand to my sister in law in front of EVERYONE. She's been making biting and awful remarks to my brother also in front of everyone like we're all deaf or something.%0D %0D And then I say: %0D %0D "Here. Just kill him now. Skip the 35-year plan where he strokes out or has a heart attack after decades of you nagging at him. Just take him out now and get it over with."%0D %0D %0D And then I look at my brother and say: "Sorry. Well, actually, no. Not sorry." %0D %0D %0D
|by Anonymous||reply 246||11/14/2010|
|by Anonymous||reply 247||11/14/2010|
I am the dust on the china plates that were set on the table without being rinsed since last Thanksgiving.%0D
|by Anonymous||reply 248||11/14/2010|
I am the cheap card table used for the kids that mysteriously collapses in the middle of dinner.%0D
|by Anonymous||reply 249||11/14/2010|
I am the gravel on the driveway that will soon be in the bloody knees of the adult cousins who pretend to play "football" while smoking drinking and trying to make stadium crowd noises by hoarsely yelling "Haaaaaaa" to accompany the play by play every time they get the ball.%0D
|by Anonymous||reply 250||11/14/2010|
I am the side bet between Uncle Joe and Uncle Francis about the Big Ten Football game, even though neither one of them has ever been to a football game and both are closeted homosexuals, though unknown to each other the last 65 years.%0D
|by Anonymous||reply 251||11/14/2010|
I am the arty napkin rings used by the hostess with her cheap paper napkins. Every year one or two of me will disappear with young hooligans from the kids' table who take them home to experiment with them as cock rings.%0D
|by Anonymous||reply 252||11/14/2010|
I am the honest answer to my sheltered, suburban Catholic aunt's question, "What are you doing for a living these days?"
"Outreach to sex workers about HIV and safer sex."
That was in the nineties. Now that I think of it, that Thanksgiving was the last one I was invited to with the extended family.
|by Anonymous||reply 253||11/14/2010|
I am the one bully cousin child all the others fear. The adults tell them they have to be nice to him because he has "special needs."%0D
|by Anonymous||reply 254||11/14/2010|
I'm the roughly 1.5 million people who leave the west coast for points east for this holiday.%0D %0D %0D
|by Anonymous||reply 255||11/14/2010|
I'm the ex-con the drug addict female cousin brought along. When I'm offered an egg nog with bourbon I decline and instead mix my own highball. Then I ask if it's ok to smoke. Ten minutes after the meal ends I'll be riding off with the cousin on a motorcyle. 3 months later we'll both be arrested on drug charges.
|by Anonymous||reply 256||11/14/2010|
I a, the loudmouthed uncouth Aunt Lisa who makes a huge statement to everyone ...
when my shy niece isn't participating in the dining table conversation..
" Wow girl...you need to start talking"
Nice to humiliate a 16 yr old.
|by Anonymous||reply 257||11/15/2010|
I'm the can of jellied cranberry. I thought everyone liked me but obviously no one cares. I will ooze away now and you'll all be sorry when I'm gone.
|by Anonymous||reply 258||11/15/2010|
I'm the Spiral Ham my sister planned to bring to complement our mother's roasted turkey until the snowstorm forced her to stay home with four traumatized children who couldn't believe they had to make do with ham on Thanksgiving.%0D %0D The same snowstorm forced my other sister's husband to take a chainsaw to a frozen bird so they could roast half of it in time to enjoy an impromptu turkey dinner while stranded at home. %0D
|by Anonymous||reply 259||11/15/2010|
I'm the unfathomably sweet, also taciturn gay uncle who replies to R257's Aunt Lisa: "She doesn't need to talk, your talking enough for the entire family--no, no make that the entire tri-state area!!"
|by Anonymous||reply 260||11/15/2010|
[quote]I am the honest answer to my sheltered, suburban Catholic aunt's question, "What are you doing for a living these days?"%0D %0D "Outreach to sex workers about HIV and safer sex."%0D %0D That was in the nineties. Now that I think of it, that Thanksgiving was the last one I was invited to with the extended family.%0D %0D %0D I adore you!! xox%0D %0D
|by Anonymous||reply 261||11/15/2010|
R144, I think you should ask R123 if you can go to Mexico with them -- it would be safer for your sobriety.
|by Anonymous||reply 262||11/15/2010|
I'm grandma's lemon pound cake that we haven't had since she died, because no one can make it like she does.
|by Anonymous||reply 263||11/15/2010|
I'm 10 year old niece Carrie and I have my first period just as the turkey is being carved.
|by Anonymous||reply 264||11/15/2010|
I'm the unserved, forgotten jello mold in the back of the fridge.
|by Anonymous||reply 265||11/15/2010|
r241, I hope you and your sister get along because it sounds like you need each other in that shitty, shitty house.
r244, I love you. Yours might be my favorite so far.
|by Anonymous||reply 266||11/15/2010|
I'm the Saw III references made by nephews at the dinner table.
|by Anonymous||reply 267||11/15/2010|
I'm the bitchy Aunt and her douchebag know it all husband. All day we've been talking about how America is sliding into communism. We call the president "Obammy" and now we're crowing about the Republican sweep of the elections. We only shut up after your liberal treehugging boyfriend snaps and lays some actual facts on us. Something about middle class tax rates being the lowest they've ever been or something like that, he also makes some convoluted point about being a small business owner and how happy he is with Obamacare. We say "Well, everyone knows it's rude to discuss politics at the dinner table."
|by Anonymous||reply 268||11/15/2010|
I'm the n'er-do-well cousin who calls from the airport in Denver where he is delayed and can't make it for the dinner.
Then I hang up and turn off the airport noises sound effects and open a can of Dinty Moore Beef Stew for my thanksgiving dinner
|by Anonymous||reply 269||11/15/2010|
I'm the sister in law who is just livid that my husband's little sister is announcing her pregnancy at the dinner table. Doesn't she know that our last two IVF's didn't take? Who does she think she is? Is she not considerate of our struggle at all? I hope her baby has flipper feet!
|by Anonymous||reply 270||11/15/2010|
I'm the sister-in-law who will be announcing my pregnancy at the dinner table.
My two bitch from hell frenemies have just announced their pregnancies, and everything is always a competition!
I am 27 years old, and have been married to your brother since I was 22. I do not work.
No one can understand why I am content to be a child bride and do nothing with my life.
Notwithstanding my complete lack of career, I also refuse to cook, clean, or do laundry.
I am a cipher!
|by Anonymous||reply 271||11/15/2010|
I am the sudden and total silence that descends upon the group gathered in the living room. The cause?
A fart (SBD-preferred) that settles and lingers, actually growing more rancid with age until someone screams "For God's sake open a window"!
(It will be blamed on the dog who will then be banished to the bedroom, where in retaliation it will lay a dump on the piles of coats.)
|by Anonymous||reply 272||11/15/2010|
I am the swedish meatballs appetizer that senile old Aunt Peg makes every year. This year she put powdered Tide detergent in instead of bread crumbs.
I sit at the bottom of the trash bag until the two dogs your sister brought over--"They can't stand an empty house!"--eat them and then throw up all over the rumpus room.
|by Anonymous||reply 273||11/15/2010|
I am the son of Aunt Phyllis. I am gay, and I know this, but I can never tell my mother, or my sisters, unless I want to be cut off. Which I am not going to let happen, because my dad was a total asshole and I deserve some of the money he left.
My wife is a cheery and inoffensive little thing who has got to be willfully blind. There's no other explanation for why she stays. I'm going to make a sideways comment about her putting on a little weight right as she finishes dessert.
|by Anonymous||reply 274||11/15/2010|
I am the two nieces at the table who BOTH fail to mention that, unbeknownst to each other, they are each marrying their boyfriends on 11/11/11 next year. If they only had mentioned it, it would save us all a lot of imminent family drama.
|by Anonymous||reply 275||11/15/2010|
I'm the large pan of baked lasagna. The family that made me is half-Italian & half-Polish Jewish and was put on the table "just in case anyone want to have a little." I will be completely devoured while the tradional stuffed turkey, roasted till dry, will sit forlornly, minus one leg and a slice of breast.
|by Anonymous||reply 276||11/15/2010|
I am the layer of miniature marshmallows that cover the dish of sweet potatoes under the broiler. I will be forgotten. Nobody will notice me until my smell alerts all that I have turned into a layer of charcoal.
|by Anonymous||reply 277||11/15/2010|
I am the mother-in-law, who my son's wife privately calls "Grandma Frostbite"
In the middle of dinner, I casually ask my daughter-in law "Is that chandelier hard to clean?"
|by Anonymous||reply 278||11/15/2010|
I'm the ancient mother with Alzheimer's, who doesn't know where I am or who these people are. My only conversation is to ask and ask again (and again) about the other siblings who are not there because (unbeknost to me), my children are squabbling over how to divvy up my estate. %0D %0D At xmas, I'll repeat the process, asking this time only about the people who are not in the room (again, and again), until these strangers take me back to the home.
|by Anonymous||reply 279||11/15/2010|
I'm one of the sullen teenage cousins who remembers halfway through dinner that Christmas is coming, and she'd better be nice to the gay uncle who gives better presents than anybody else. Her sudden favor and interest cracks up the gay uncle as he's already decided to give a charity donation in her name due to the lack of thank yous over the years.
|by Anonymous||reply 280||11/15/2010|
I'm the 71 year old Aunt who everyone suspects might be a closet lesbian but who says, "The Lord takes care of her urges." I've been married once in the early 70's and since then have only fallen for gay men who sing in my church's choir. I will show up around 10am and begin eating whatever is put out for appetizers. I will then eat dinner with the family and leave immediately after, taking some leftovers with me. I will do this a Xmas also.
|by Anonymous||reply 281||11/15/2010|
I am the sodium laden, French's Green Bean casserole with french-fried onions on top, that everyone is obliged to eat "because its a holiday tradition!" yet regret later that night when they are on the 4th glass of water.
|by Anonymous||reply 282||11/15/2010|
I'm the type-A mothering woman (who, oddly, has decided not to have children) who feels it's her moral obligation to serve Thanksgiving dinner for her ENTIRE extended family, as well as any and all friends (AND their families) who want to come. Luckily I am a former sous chef who knows how to prepare meals for a lot of people at once, though this is a task much trickier at home minus a commercial kitchen. I have 38 people coming this year, a new record, so I am preparing four separate turkeys (all brined, and each with different seasoning), a dozen side dishes, and a half-dozen desserts, all from scratch (even the pie crusts!). I start preparing a week in advance.
Since I cannot fit 38 people in my relatively small house, I am having dinner outside this year since I live in a city where the Thanksgiving Day temperature is usually around 75. (Hosting a party outside is no problem in terms of tables and chairs, since I have outdoor tables and seating for 100 in my garage because these days I run a nonprofit and frequently host fundraisers in my large back yard.) I usually handle this day in stride, but I have a complete meltdown - requiring not one, not two, but THREE Klonopin to calm me down - when a freak cold front comes through and pushes the temperature down into the upper 40s. I was too busy cooking to notice the weather report, otherwise I would have dispatched my boyfriend to buy a small battalion of outdoor propane heaters at Home Depot. I am embarrassed to tears as everyone, except the ones who've lived in the North and know how to dress properly for cold weather, shivers mercilessly as they eat the meal I've slaved over for the previous week. This will be the last Thanksgiving I host.
|by Anonymous||reply 283||11/15/2010|
I am the only child to graduate from college and have a successful career, and I am gay. I am adored by my 3 nieces and 2 nephews, but mostly treated with scorn by my brothers and my father. My 2 sisters in law and my mom are better, but they are still quite provencial.
When I come to town for Thanksgiving, I always stay at a hotel and rent a fabulous car. I arrive about 5 minutes before lunch and leave about 30 minutes later. The kids (ages 14 - 20) know I rush off because my partner is not invited, and is waiting at the hotel. All but one now drive, so we get to spend quality time with them while I'm in town. They are all cool with my partner.
Knowing how my life galls my dad and brothers just makes coming to visit that much nicer.
Oh, and I'm loving this thread!
|by Anonymous||reply 284||11/15/2010|
I am the gigantic crash that comes from behind the closed bathroom door as someone searches for drugs.%0D %0D I am the sheepish grin that emerges when the bathroom door is finally opened.%0D %0D And I am the smug host who filled the bathroom cabinet with marbles.
|by Anonymous||reply 285||11/15/2010|
I'm the Thanksgiving dinner served in the luxury suites at Cowboys Stadium for fatcats there to watch the Cowboys play the defending Super Bowl champions Saints. I feed up to 18 total, and my cost - for basic turkey and no unusual side dishes - is $1,500, because you can't bring in outside food and the stadium's catering department can charge whatever the fuck they want (a pizza would be $80 if you wanted it). Jealous, bitches? I think so!
|by Anonymous||reply 286||11/15/2010|
R285, how do you get them in there?
And then how do you get them out later, if no one opens the door to snoop during the party?
|by Anonymous||reply 287||11/15/2010|
Im the cool, motor mouthed Aunt. I never had kids of my own, my husband died very young. I wont help with the food and will sit in front of the television and dish the latest on each celebrity that comes across the screen, to my family who knows nothing about pop culture. I maintain that Oprah Winfrey has bleached her skin and has had a nose job, even though I am scoffed at. This will end up as a huge family debate about Oprah Winfrey that goes well into the evening.
|by Anonymous||reply 288||11/15/2010|
I'm the two complete misfit stragglers that arrived in tow, unannounced, with the angry sister, forcing everybody to squeeze around the table even more tightly while the tightass host makes a slightly clenched toast about how wonderful it is to spend Thanksgiving with "family and some NEW friends!"
|by Anonymous||reply 289||11/15/2010|
I am the crazy control freak relative who insists on a THIN slice of pie, then shrieks, "No, thinner! THINNER! Less than that! Less!" as you try to slice the pecan pie 1/16th of an inch thick. I will glower at you when you just end up sort of scraping the edge of the knife along the dessert plate and handing her the result. I have spent the last two days saving up Weight Watchers Points and I am very, very angry.
|by Anonymous||reply 290||11/15/2010|
[quote]I am 27 years old, and have been married to your brother since I was 22...No one can understand why I am content to be a child bride
In what world is a 22-year-old woman a "child"?
|by Anonymous||reply 291||11/15/2010|
[quote]In what world is a 22-year-old woman a "child"?
In contemporary America where most middle- and upper-middle-class women get married around 30 or later.
|by Anonymous||reply 292||11/15/2010|
I'm the fart blown, white rattan chair brought up from the basement.
|by Anonymous||reply 293||11/15/2010|
I think R278 might be related to me - that sounds exactly like one of my aunts.
|by Anonymous||reply 294||11/15/2010|
Your mom will work in her opposition to my legality SOMETIME tonight. She just has to. She can't NOT bring it up when there's an audience. I'll probably drop from her lips during the forced prayer, as a dramatic addendum. "God bless the unborn martyrs..." Something like that.
I do NOT go well with the cranberry sauce, which everyone will subconsciously look at when mom brings me up.
|by Anonymous||reply 295||11/15/2010|
I'm immigration. I'm the issue du jour that your East Texas trash step-grandmother has seized on, right on the heels of "Obama is a Muslim" and "too many blacks have moved into our neighborhood lately, and crime has gone through the roof" (as if the well-off blacks in their upper-middle-class neighborhood are the culprit). She will likely become enraged when it is pointed out to her by her liberal gay step-grandson that her state's governor, Rick Perry, does not support the recent anti-immigrant legislation in Arizona.
|by Anonymous||reply 296||11/15/2010|
Haha, I admit that I do what r290 posts. I'm not on weight watchers though and I don't get angry. I just like to watch what I eat and only try the pie to be polite. My Italian family (mostly heavyset and they love their food in huge portions) gets very irritated by me.
|by Anonymous||reply 297||11/15/2010|
[quote]I arrive about 5 minutes before lunch and leave about 30 minutes later. The kids (ages 14 - 20) know I rush off because my partner is not invited, and is waiting at the hotel. %0D %0D I can't believe you still go to your parents' home for Thanksgiving if your partner isn't invited, too. Don't you have any balls?
|by Anonymous||reply 298||11/15/2010|
r298, the thread is called, "Let's Pretend."
|by Anonymous||reply 299||11/15/2010|
I'm Nana's dentures that have fallen out into her mashed potatos after chomping down on a drum stick.
|by Anonymous||reply 300||11/15/2010|
I'm little Clara's cusihon that grandma uses for "back support" and keeps farting on.
|by Anonymous||reply 301||11/15/2010|
I am the sister who is sobbing upon hearing that her sister in law is in need of a liver transplant.
We find out on Thanksgiving that she has taken an overdose of tylenol b/c she found out her husband has been having an affair .
|by Anonymous||reply 302||11/15/2010|
I am the Pineapple upside-down cake that will be brazenly taken from the kitchen counter by a Born-Again sister because there is too many cake and pies already and no one will miss it. I will be dropped off to the next in-laws on the holiday itinerary.
|by Anonymous||reply 303||11/15/2010|
I am the oldest son, home from college on thanksgiving break. I feel so out of place. Everybody seems so dumb.%0D %0D I don't think I will be going home next thanksgiving.
|by Anonymous||reply 304||11/15/2010|
I'm the uncomfortable silence at the dinner table.
|by Anonymous||reply 305||11/15/2010|
R182. lol. love it.
|by Anonymous||reply 306||11/15/2010|
I am the golden retriever who scores the turkey carcass with all the left overs on it.
I snatch it off the kitchen counter and dash out the back door.
|by Anonymous||reply 307||11/15/2010|
Non-american DLers...can you relate to all this?
|by Anonymous||reply 308||11/15/2010|
I am the green beans that your sister always forgets to boil before putting them into the casserole with the condensed mushroom soup and fried onions, crunching and squeaking, raw, against everyone's teeth.
|by Anonymous||reply 309||11/15/2010|
I'm your mother's 4th glass of wine, which prompts her to tell you about the time your father hired a hooker.
|by Anonymous||reply 310||11/15/2010|
I'm the hooker that returns to the scene of the crime
|by Anonymous||reply 311||11/15/2010|
I'm the thread LET'S POST PICS OF HOT GUYS PISSING. ...someone forgot to clear me from the history on dad's Dell. Oops.
|by Anonymous||reply 312||11/16/2010|
I'm the crazy mother in law to my elder brother. I will randomly relive a story about how her sister complained that she had trouble douching when she was a teenager. I will insist to her, somewhere in heaven, that "you can't DOUCHE if you're CHERRY!!" Then I will repeat that tag line twice more throughout the meal, when I realize that it begets a round of thunderous laughter from the rest of the table.
|by Anonymous||reply 313||11/16/2010|
I'm the strong cocktails you need to get through the pre-meal chatter with relatives you hate. I'll give you a buzz, but don't drink too fast or you'll forget all those comebacks you practiced in the bathroom mirror. Here's a couple to start with:%0D (In response to how smart and wonderful Glenn Beck is) "Did you know he's a Mormon and they think they're all going to rule their own planets in Heaven? And that Mormonism is a cult with weird underwear?"%0D After Grandma snaps, "And this used to be a Christian country", you come back with,"And it would still be, if people lived their religion and didn't judge others and turned the other cheek and helped poor people and prisoners, like they're supposed to."%0D Maybe I should write them on a note card....
|by Anonymous||reply 314||11/16/2010|
I'm the overboiled remains of a butternut squash oozing through the colander and coagulating into a mushy orange pulp in the sink strainer. You should have waited until the bird was well and truly roasted before you began fretting over the side dishes.
|by Anonymous||reply 315||11/16/2010|
i'm the crazy relative that gets insulted at EVERY holiday meal when someone disagrees with me over the most minute topic. i will run to the bathroom and lock myself in until my poor beaten down spouse coaxes me out after pleading with me for 30 minutes. i will reappear all puffy-faced and will not speak to anyone, hoping to draw out my moment in the sun as i continue to pout, until it's time to leave. my mother will tell everyone i've always been high strung. i will take home the bulk of the leftovers, since i ate soooo little. my sorry ass won't have to cook or buy food for a week now! i can't wait until Christmas!
|by Anonymous||reply 316||11/16/2010|
Sure, r308. I've read every hilarious post and can relate.
|by Anonymous||reply 317||11/16/2010|
I'm the shy cousin who tries desperately to avoid conversations with people I see only once a year,I will spend my time helping in the kitchen.
|by Anonymous||reply 318||11/16/2010|
r298, he doesn't want to go anyway. I go just to fuck with them, and see my nieces and nephews. I buy them things their parents can't afford. They all make good grades and are college bound because they don't want to end up like their folks.
I've taken the oldest 2 to Europe for their high school graduation present. I will take the others as they graduate.
|by Anonymous||reply 319||11/16/2010|
I'm the uptight, professional victim gay son who sneers and weeps at any comment that seems even remotely "homophobic'.
|by Anonymous||reply 320||11/16/2010|
One more thing. When I took my 2 nieces to Europe after their graduation, they told me my brother grumbled that he could have gotten a good used car on what I spent on their trip. He had to take a 2nd job just to afford a used truck.
I never speak ill of their fathers, even though they were horrible to me while I was growing up. They mocked my studious ways, and pummeled me every chance they got.
|by Anonymous||reply 321||11/16/2010|
I'm Uncle Fred, a "confirmed bachelor" who lives alone with my cat, my antiques, and my collection of Murano glass figurines. I really resent how openly my nieces and nephews discuss their lives, their sexuality, their opinions. Life has passed me by....
|by Anonymous||reply 322||11/16/2010|
Damn, the uncles certainly are the odd ones in a lot of American families.
|by Anonymous||reply 323||11/16/2010|
No parameters in most American families. Disfunctional is the new normal.
|by Anonymous||reply 324||11/16/2010|
I already am, sweetheart.
|by Anonymous||reply 325||11/16/2010|
Dysfunction in American families may be normal, but it's hardly new!
|by Anonymous||reply 326||11/16/2010|
I'm the "harmless" racist joke played by Uncle Rubis, only to be followed by groans and stares. I will follow it up with the one about Obama being a "Mooooslim"
|by Anonymous||reply 327||11/16/2010|
Nor is it exclusive to Americans.
|by Anonymous||reply 328||11/16/2010|
I'm the 10 yr-old niece who still thinks that it's funny to call gays "ewwwww gross" and has no problems saying so right in front of my Aunt Catherine, who has never gotten married.
I ask Daddy why Auntie has never married but he won't answer.
|by Anonymous||reply 329||11/16/2010|
I'm the long, slow, pounding fuck in the morning with my lover since we realized a few years ago that spending Thanksgiving with our families was a medicine we didn't like, that didn't help and that we never had to take again.
|by Anonymous||reply 330||11/16/2010|
you know, r308, other countries have holidays too. We might not have Thanksgiving, but the whole gathering around a meal business isn't unique to the US. In the UK, these would just be Christmas stories instead.
|by Anonymous||reply 331||11/16/2010|
So true R173.
|by Anonymous||reply 332||11/16/2010|
I'm the tiresome Brit endlessly whining about how "we have holidays too!"
|by Anonymous||reply 333||11/16/2010|
R313 reminds me of something that happened to a friend. While everyone was posing for a family holiday photo, his elderly, hard-of-hearing aunt asked another aunt, loudly, "How long do we have to stand here? My pussy lips itch."
|by Anonymous||reply 334||11/16/2010|
I'm the British Uncle farting loudly at the table
|by Anonymous||reply 335||11/16/2010|
[quote]you know, [R308], other countries have holidays too. We might not have Thanksgiving, but the whole gathering around a meal business isn't unique to the US. In the UK, these would just be Christmas stories instead.
Of course you have holidays too. Are your families this neurotic and dysfunctional? I'd be interested to hear from non-UKers.
|by Anonymous||reply 336||11/16/2010|
Are UK Christmas gatherings typically as large as US Thanksgiving gatherings? What about Canadian Thanksgiving?
|by Anonymous||reply 337||11/16/2010|
Oh, r308, where shall I start?%0D %0D My mother boring her little cousin with 45 year-old gripes about how mean and evil their mutual grandparents were? Launching, unprovoked into a dinner table diatribe about my aunt 'stealing' family photos 25 years ago? Refusing to call my brother's partner by her name? %0D %0D My uncle turning up drunk (every time) and presenting whoever opens the door to greet him with his empties? His wife ploughing through 25 cigarettes while telling everyone about her chemo?%0D %0D My grandmother disappearing into the kitchen 'to do the washing-up' and draining a bottle and a half of brandy while leaving the dishes untouched?%0D %0D Somehow I think neurotic, dysfunctional families are international.%0D %0D
|by Anonymous||reply 338||11/16/2010|
I'm the kid leftover from your sister's new husband's old marriage. I'm gawky, pocky and dull. I also have a speech impediment. My real mom was a slurring drunk so I sort of grew up imitating her. I and everyone else know that I won't blossom into a swan. This is pretty much it. People almost hurt themselves trying to get away from me. I was hoping the cool gay uncle might show me some kindness but he's too busy being nice to everyone else.
|by Anonymous||reply 339||11/16/2010|
I'm your aunt Therese. I have a terrible case of Fibro. Today I'm having a flareup. I couldn't even stir the melted chocolate in the double burner so there goes dessert. Would you mind giving me a ride to the pain clinic? I need to get a shot of some medication. It's just an injection of Morphine, Fenagren (for nausea) and a little anti-anxiety b/c I hate needles. The Pain Management Center is basically just a shooting gallery for middle age white ladies but I do need a ride! I'll spend the rest of the day blissful and nodding out. Occasionally I'll pat a child on the head or cryptically tell my brother I forgive him for everything.
|by Anonymous||reply 340||11/16/2010|
I'm the cousin who will insist on leading everyone through an extended prayer, even though no one in attendance shares my fundamentalist religion.
|by Anonymous||reply 341||11/16/2010|
I'm the neighbor who never went away to college and still lives with Mom and Dad despite being 30.
I'll stop by unannounced like I used to do when I was 14 and the family will all be happy to see me, but have absolutely nothing to talk about with me.
|by Anonymous||reply 342||11/16/2010|
I'm the condom wrappers left on the floor
|by Anonymous||reply 343||11/16/2010|
We're the family members that no one talks to anymore. Everyone at Thanksgiving will reflect fondly on their memories of us and ask each other if they've heard anything about us recently. We'll all act sad that they're not in attendance, but not sad enough to have invited them.
|by Anonymous||reply 344||11/16/2010|
I'm the totally bullshit story about why my brother's/sister's/cousin's spouse isn't in attendance. Cut the crap just say they don't like us.
|by Anonymous||reply 345||11/16/2010|
I'm my happy homemaker Aunt trying hard once again to understand what my nephew does for a living. I'll pepper the conversation with questions like "do you have a desk," "do you wear a tie" that sadly reveal that I have no idea what my nephew does for a living.
|by Anonymous||reply 346||11/16/2010|
r339, you made me verklempt.
|by Anonymous||reply 347||11/16/2010|
I am the oldest son who will kill his sister-in-law if she takes the leftover green bean casserole (that I made) home again this year.
I live for the leftovers. As God is my witness, I will kill her if she does it again.
|by Anonymous||reply 348||11/16/2010|
I'm the prodigal daughter and surprise guest for the rest of the family. After 20 years and six kids, I've finally grown up, taken responsibility for my life, and found a good man who has encouraged me to contact my parents again.
Mom and Dad are ecstatic with my return. They have always loved me, and even though they threw me out of the house for drug use when I was 18 because I was involving my younger siblings, they have pined for me ever since. They know there could be trouble reintroducing me to the family, so they insist on hosting a Thanksgiving/50th wedding anniversary party at their tiny house.
My siblings are warier. Once they started having kids, my continued substance abuse and horrendous child rearing for my first 3 kids pretty much forced them to cut all ties. Most tolerate me for Mom and Dad's sake, and warm up as they get to know me and my 3 well behaved younger kids better.
I'm also the self-righteous martyr sister who married very well and now has more money than God, a house the size of Grand Central Station, an extremely special-needs child who likes to beat me up, and a normal child who I constantly scream at because I know he won't beat me up. Thanksgiving is usually held at my house, because it's the only one big enough to hold everyone. I always have the very best food, but no one eats much, because half of it is ice cold, and my robotic husband starts cleaning up almost as soon as the last plate is filled. While we sit around talking, I like to pull out photos from my most recent vacation to Europe or the Caribbean, and tell my captive audience that they should travel more. I take the return of prodigal sister as a personal affront, and a threat to my almost fully grown kids' welfare. I will cut off all communication with my parents tomorrow, and try to force the rest of my siblings to choose between me and them. Needless to say, I won't host a family Thanksgiving again. Bunch of ingrates.
Everyone is much happier now.
|by Anonymous||reply 349||11/16/2010|
R348, Hint number one: follow those leftovers as they leave the table. I always help to clear up. Hint number two: bring your own containers.
|by Anonymous||reply 350||11/16/2010|
[quote]I'm the condom wrappers left on the floor%0D %0D Jeez, r343 ... what kind of family do you come from?
|by Anonymous||reply 351||11/16/2010|
r316 That's my sister in law to a tee!! Except nobody begs her at the door anymore. She doesn't help with a single thing all day, brings nothing, yet she jumps up after the meal to fill all the containers she brought.
Then she plops down on her ass leaving the dirty dishes where she left them. She could at least put them in the dishwasher!
|by Anonymous||reply 352||11/16/2010|
[quote]Grand Central Station
|by Anonymous||reply 353||11/16/2010|
I'm all the eyes rolling at the table when R353 condescendingly informs everyone "it's a STRING bean casserole, not a green bean casserole. Oh, dear."
|by Anonymous||reply 354||11/16/2010|
I'm all the eyes rolling when Nomi Malone at R353 announces to the table: "Don't ya love my dress? It's Ver-sayce!"
|by Anonymous||reply 355||11/16/2010|
I'm really horny and wondering why I feel awkward jerking off in my parent's home, when it's where I learned to.
|by Anonymous||reply 356||11/16/2010|
R353, if you don't recognize the universal use of "Grand Central Station" as a comparative descriptor to anything large and/or bustling all I can say about you is, "oh, dear."
|by Anonymous||reply 357||11/16/2010|
Good point, R257. It's not about the actual location, it's a universal metaphor.
|by Anonymous||reply 358||11/16/2010|
We're your mother's eyes, carefully avoiding looking at either you or your new boyfriend the entire dinner. This is because we saw you getting fucked up the ass three hours earlier after making the mistake of not knocking before entering your bedroom.
|by Anonymous||reply 359||11/16/2010|
I'm the unfairness of life disguised as the hotel room down the road where the gay, youngest son will stay with his partner of 8 years.
Even though the gay son flew 1300 miles to make sure the whole family was together, the homophobic father will only allow the straight, older brother and his wife to stay overnight in the family home. They've been married 6 years.
The younger son is told he and his partner can't stay in the house because there "aren't enough bedrooms for everybody", which is not true.
|by Anonymous||reply 360||11/16/2010|
Oh, but R360, we really shouldn't be in the business of demanding equal marriage rights, as it pisses off everyone! I don't want to get married anyhow! I don't see why everyone cares so much about this!!
|by Anonymous||reply 361||11/16/2010|
Hi r350. r348 here. It's my house, but I am going to be on that green bean casserole like a hobo on a hot donut. I'm hiding them in my garage fridge. Plus, I do not want her washing my good crystal, china and silver in the dishwasher.
Bitch, sit down and eat your punkin pie.
|by Anonymous||reply 362||11/16/2010|
[quote]I'm your brother's new wife, who excuses herself every half hour to go outside and have a cigarette, while your mother looks out the back window and tsks loudly. Halfway through dinner, I excuse myself by suddenly announcing in my deep smokers voice "Oh Gawd, I fuhgut the whipt creeyum! I'll go get sum mowah frum the stowah!" startling everyone at the table. After I leave, your brother grumbles as he pushed himself away from the table, "She's going to do those damn scratch tickets, we don't have that kind of money goddammit!"%0D %0D Loved this one!!
|by Anonymous||reply 363||11/16/2010|
I'm Mamma's Mussy, taking a day off with my Marie Calander's Turkey Dinner, a bottle of Rock and Rye, and two cartons of Virginia Slims menthol.
|by Anonymous||reply 364||11/16/2010|
I'm the pregnant 14 year old.
|by Anonymous||reply 365||11/16/2010|
I'm the empty pregnancy test in the bathroom bin that almost starts the next Cold War. Actually, your 13 year old nephew's 'difficult' best friend planted it for a joke.
|by Anonymous||reply 366||11/16/2010|
I'm the 300th something post and running out of steam. Like the last 5 pages.
|by Anonymous||reply 367||11/16/2010|
I'm the Summer's Eve douche quietly left on Cheryl's chair at the dinner table.
|by Anonymous||reply 368||11/17/2010|
I'm the bedbug stuck up R367's ass.
|by Anonymous||reply 369||11/17/2010|
I'm the traffic, It's TERRIFIC!
|by Anonymous||reply 370||11/17/2010|
I'm the tense conversation around the table, after everyone's had dessert, talking about where everyone's going for Christmas this year. No one is volunteering...
|by Anonymous||reply 371||11/17/2010|
I am the trip to the store on Thanksgiving Day for some forgotten ingredient. I will be made multiple times throughout the day and will drive you crazy until you realize I get you out of the house and away from all the drama. With that I will go from 20 minutes to over an hour leading to frantic calls asking where you are.
|by Anonymous||reply 372||11/17/2010|
I'm the bitchy teen girl who thinks that Bristol should have won Dancing With the Stars.
|by Anonymous||reply 373||11/17/2010|
|by Anonymous||reply 374||11/17/2010|
I am the blanket of embarassment that covers the table, particularly my brother in law, my father and his adored teenage granddaughter, when my drunk sister starts carrying on about how the government will pay for Viagara but not birth control. Then goes on to tell everyone how much the teenagers Nuva ring costs each month.
|by Anonymous||reply 375||11/17/2010|
I'm the new facial tattoo.
|by Anonymous||reply 376||11/17/2010|
I am the juvenile delinquent son all the Republican relatives refuse to speak to or acknowledge.
The only person who is nice to me is the girlfriend of the loudmouth douchebag neighbor who always shows up for Thanksgiving dinner.
Within a year our neighbor will have caused this poor woman to have a nervous breakdown.
I will never see her again.
|by Anonymous||reply 377||11/17/2010|
I'm the idealistic nephew home from college who just discovered Nietzche and thinks he's brilliant exuding ennui and donning hipster glasses. I will sit in a corner reading philosophy and react with disdain when anyone over 30 speaks.
|by Anonymous||reply 378||11/17/2010|
This would be the new facial tattoo.
|by Anonymous||reply 379||11/17/2010|
I'm the pearl clutching gay uncle who shouts MARY! when the can shaped Ocean Spray cranberry sauce is served at Thanksgiving dinner.
|by Anonymous||reply 380||11/17/2010|
I'm that can-shaped Ocean Spray cranberry substance at one end of the table that is just the tip of the iceberg in the rift that separates grown siblings most of whom wish to retain the family's lower-class traditions in the name of sentiment versus the one who is determined to go all Martha Stewart-y at the other end of the table with homemade cranberry-orange chutney that tastes like potpourri.%0D %0D Don't even get them started on Mrs. Smith's and Cool Whip.
|by Anonymous||reply 381||11/17/2010|
I am the 8 year old's pet hamster that escapes ten minutes before dinner. Your mom decides not to worry about me, since I probably just found a corner to go to sleep in. This ... will prove to be a mistake.
|by Anonymous||reply 382||11/18/2010|
i'm the too small free-range organic turkey that the hippy brother & wife brought. it is a sad, scrawny sight, without the bloated breast & herculean legs we're accustomed to from butterball. the kids (and gay nephew sitting at the kid's table) will whine, but the adults will say: "what it lacked in size, it made up for in flavor." it's sad little carcass will be sucked & licked clean. there will be no turkey leftovers, just a bunch of stuffing & gravy, sitting forlorn in the fridge. it won't be eaten now.
|by Anonymous||reply 383||11/18/2010|
I'm a hipster who decides to throw a Thanksgiving Day party for his friends. I think that the turkey will just appear at the table. I won't purchase or borrow wine glasses. I won't buy anything except some snacks. I won't communicate with those coming over, to try and make sure that a proper dinner will occur. I won't clean. Everyone will come over, and we'll end up ordering Chinese.%0D %0D Whatevs.
|by Anonymous||reply 384||11/18/2010|
I'm the outmoded technology the older parents use as it still works (8 track player, laser disc player, cassette deck, word processor.) The bratty kids in attendance are fascinated and can't resist playing with us until we break. My owners get angry, as we can't be replaced, and think they're too old to learn new systems. The resulting fight ends up being "Your kids don't respect anything" and "I don't want a NEW one, I want what I had" vs. "Okay, I'll go get you a new one tomorrow when Goodwill opens". Fun for all!
|by Anonymous||reply 386||11/18/2010|
I'm the idiot racist fucktard whom the whole family secretly loathes.
|by Anonymous||reply 387||11/18/2010|
Not so secretly.
|by Anonymous||reply 388||11/18/2010|
I'm the beautiful centerpiece that the hostess made. She spent a bundle on the meal so in order to save money she brought in the mums off of the front porch and covered the pots with a beautiful gold vintage shawl. To add height she pruned a few interesting branches from the Japanese Maple which is in full color right now. She artfully scattered a few more birch leaves and pine cones around the bottom to tie it all together. Yes, I truly am a thing of beauty and some of the other ladies (and a few gentlemen) at the table are silently jealous of the hostess. How does she pull all of this off on her crummy salary? The jealousies are put to rest tho as the warm room wakes the various larvae, bugs, spiders and worms from their winter slumber and they attack the meal like ants at a picnic.
|by Anonymous||reply 389||11/18/2010|
I am the candle wax about to drip onto the hostess's lace tablecloth, lovingly made by her Great-great Grandmother in the old country.
|by Anonymous||reply 390||11/18/2010|
I am the turkey "accidentally" left in the freezer by the cook who hates turkey. This leads to an emergency grocery store run and the best Thanksgiving feast ever: Tacos! with stuffing on the side.
Although we go back to regular turkey dinners in years to come, we all secretly wish for a return to the taco menu.
|by Anonymous||reply 391||11/18/2010|
I'm the Thanksgiving that will suck again because of in-laws that can't make plans until the day before. I've been awful the past several years but this year will be even worse since a member of the family just got divorced and there is already a fight over people choosing sides even though they were told that isn't happening. I used to be a fun holiday along with Christmas, it's too bad that now I'm a time of year that people can't wait to be overwith.%0D %0D Thanks to all of you that have funny stories, I've laughed so hard my sides hurt. I love you all!
|by Anonymous||reply 392||11/18/2010|
I'm the "struggling" actress niece from New York who can't maintain a relationship because of narcissistic personality disorder and spends half the day checking her cell phone for texts from her latest boyfriend, and the other half of the day using the only child in attendance as an accessory and photo op. By 5:00, she has snapped at Little Gabby saying "Auntie Tracy is tired now," and is in tears by 7:00 because "Andrew hasn't texted me back!"
|by Anonymous||reply 393||11/18/2010|
I'm still at the Y waiting for my Habitat For Humanity house once I convince them I'm not a flamer.
|by Anonymous||reply 394||11/18/2010|
I'm r385's meth pipe that shatters on the floor at grandma's feet just as he is about to ask for a bite of her excrement.
|by Anonymous||reply 395||11/18/2010|
I'm the corn waiting to picked out of grandpas shit.
|by Anonymous||reply 396||11/18/2010|
|by Anonymous||reply 397||11/18/2010|
I am the plea for everyone at the table to take turns saying what they're thankful for. The food is on the table and steaming hot, but by the time everyone's finished, the food is cold and you resent me. Every year you try to prevent me, but I prevail.
|by Anonymous||reply 398||11/18/2010|
I'm the basket of samples that the son who just got a new job at Dior brought. I will be a giant source of tension as all the members family paw and scratch to get the latest must have nail varnish color. In the tangle someone cracks open a mini of Dior Cherie Parfum. Jesus Christ does that smell lose it's charm after an hour. Everyone goes home with headaches and testers of creme yeaux.
|by Anonymous||reply 399||11/18/2010|
I'm Mom's repetitive stress disorder in her shoulder for chopping up so many carrots and celery stalks that no one really wants to eat anyway. The pain I create will lead to a major meltdown.
|by Anonymous||reply 400||11/18/2010|
I'm the unspoken fury of a fifteen year-old forced to sit at the children's table. I will lead to much sulking.
|by Anonymous||reply 401||11/18/2010|
I'm the traditional quote "Ya have ta eat til' yer belly touches the table!!" that Mom says every year.
|by Anonymous||reply 402||11/18/2010|
I'm the too-tart homemade cranberry sauce being passed around the table by everyone who would prefer the stuff in the can but is ashamed to admit it.
|by Anonymous||reply 403||11/18/2010|
I am the Summer's Eve commercial that comes on during the football game.
|by Anonymous||reply 404||11/18/2010|
I had no idea Africanamericans deep-fried turkeys. I thought that "Jackass" turkey preparations like that and the Weber kettle stunt were the exclusive domain of rednecks.
|by Anonymous||reply 405||11/18/2010|
I am all the sad little jokes repeated ad nauseum each year for decades.
I will be missed when I'm gone.
|by Anonymous||reply 406||11/18/2010|
I am the wrong serving dish. The daughter's placement of the olives in me has caused the mother to blow a fucking gasket in front of the guests and storm out. Bon appetit.
|by Anonymous||reply 407||11/18/2010|
I'm the announcement that the sister-in-law makes to the effect that she has joined her local tea party group.
|by Anonymous||reply 408||11/20/2010|
I am the vegan. Did I forget to mention that when you invited me?
For dinner I will have four olives and eight glasses of wine.
|by Anonymous||reply 409||11/20/2010|
I'm the Greek restaurant that serves free Thanksgiving Dinner to the homeless every year. It's processed turkey roll and instant mashed potatoes, and if the truth is told we only feed a couple hundred people.
But every year we're in the newspaper and on every local news broadcast just like clockwork. The free advertising we get is worth 20X more than the turkey.
We also take down the big signs we have up the rest of the year that say "restrooms for customers only" and "we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone."
|by Anonymous||reply 410||11/21/2010|
I'm the awkward a-frame hug between the cousins who used to play doctor.
|by Anonymous||reply 411||11/21/2010|
I'm the Nescaf%C3%A9%C2%AE Taster's Choice%C2%AE Hazelnut instant coffee your mother-in-law serves and insists is "SO much better tasting than Folger's or SANKA! Remeber SANKA?!?" %0D %0D Since there isn't a Starbucks, Dunn Bros, OR Caribou for 40 miles in your dumb hick town you will be forced to be polite and choke me down. I will give you rot gut like you won't believe.
|by Anonymous||reply 412||11/21/2010|
I'm the pine scented holiday themed Christmas Tree print toilet paper in the bathroom. I am a "novelty" item...and I'm about to give every woman in your family a raging yeast infection!
|by Anonymous||reply 413||11/21/2010|
I'm the shocking pink "Mama Stamberg's Cranberry Relish" that Uncle Sy and Aunt Sylvia make and bring every year. Everyone has a small taste to be polite, but doesn't eat.
|by Anonymous||reply 414||11/21/2010|
We're the ratty spoon that got caught in the dishwasher and the fork with the bent tines. We ordinarily don't make it to the table except for the holidays. We know you always volunteer to set the table so you can make sure we go to people you can't stand.
|by Anonymous||reply 415||11/21/2010|
I'm Drew Brees, enjoying dinner before the big game. Am I worried that the Cowboys just won two in a row? Nah, bra, I play for the fuckin' Saints, man! Defending Super Bowl champs! Who cares that the 'Boys are on a roll, and that we're playing in their stadium, and that my whole family in Austin is Cowboys fans, and my uncle just told me he loves me but hopes I lose today ... wait, that last part kinda sucks. GodDAMN you, Uncle Bobby!
|by Anonymous||reply 416||11/22/2010|
R411 caused a flashback
|by Anonymous||reply 417||11/22/2010|
I'm the defective butter knife in your parents' silver tableware. I look like all the other butter knives in the set, but a clinker inside the hollow handle means it rattles. While it doesn't inspire fist fights, everyone at the table will surreptitiously shake the butter knives before dinner is actually served. There may be some slight-of-hand switching and/or jostling for the favored place setting, all of which brings up childhood grievances and accusations.
|by Anonymous||reply 418||11/22/2010|
I'm the wobbly extra chair that has the same affect on family as R418 silver tableware.
|by Anonymous||reply 419||11/22/2010|
I'm the store bought pumpkin pie your partner/boyfriend/husband sneered at when you brought me home. You will end up eating me alone with ice cream and tears.
|by Anonymous||reply 420||11/22/2010|
Bump for more stories.
|by Anonymous||reply 421||11/22/2010|
I am the obviously not straight 10 year old. The fundies are praying for me to change. The non-fundies are hoping the fundies will change. Everybody stares, though.
|by Anonymous||reply 422||11/23/2010|
I am NUTLOAF! Hear me ROAR!
|by Anonymous||reply 423||11/23/2010|
I am the bi-polar uncle in r212. I just want you all to know that since it was announced that Thanksgiving will be at my younger, successful brother's house, I have stopped taking my meds. I interacted with family members long enough for someone to know that I was getting "not right again" before disappearing entirely and not returning anyone's phone calls.
if only our mother were alive, she would help me to inflict feelings of shame on all my adult siblings for not coddling me more, at least the way my parents coddled me my whole adult life, even as I stole money for drugs from the family business as a young men before moving out to Los Angeles, where I would do even more and better drugs while pursuing a career as an actor -- a career that culminated in a few minor speaking roles in Kojak episodes. The time I spent whoring it up and doing drugs during that time in Los Angeles will form the fantasy life into which I escape when I become manic.
I will make one quick appearance on Thanksgiving %E2%80%94 maybe just as the dessert is being set out %E2%80%94 in order to scare the kids and start a fight before I get in my car and drive 120 miles an hour in the direction of California in the hopes of meeting with my wife, Jaclyn Smith, and our children.
Even though my family contacts the police, no one will be able to find me until I get arrested after almost killing myself and someone else driving 120 mph through the state of Texas.
I will be brought home yet again only to tell all the women it's their responsibility to take care of me and give me money as I invoke my mother's name to make them feel guilty.
At least I will have ruined Thanksgiving at my younger, more successful brother's house, if all goes according to plan.
|by Anonymous||reply 424||11/23/2010|
Dirty Range Tops
Sheets on bare mattresses.
Windows with blinds but no curtains.
|by Anonymous||reply 425||11/23/2010|
Every year Thanksgiving is held at my Aunt's house.%0D %0D So today, just now, my mom called to say her and daddy are not coming to Thanksgiving this year, because she and my cracked out sister just had a huge blow up.
|by Anonymous||reply 426||11/23/2010|
I'm the old bar of soap with a pubic hair stuck in it in the guest room shower. If I had a guest bathroom it would be tastefully appointed with fine linens, travel sized bottles of bath products from Crabtree & Evelyn and Philosophy. I'd also have recent magazines such as Architectural Digest, W and Bazaar. Of course I'd keep these magazines near the bed, not in the bathroom. I'd buy a Moleskine book so my guest might make a Travel Journal. I would also not leave something like a pube ridden bar of Dial.
|by Anonymous||reply 427||11/23/2010|
I'm the grown sister who's trying to create hallmark type memories for my kids in spite of the fact that no one else cares. I won't rest until I drag my kids to every relative explaining to them who they are and telling some lame story from the past. I'll be taking photos all day long to be put on the scrapbook pages I've already made. Saying grace with everyone else isn't good enough either. I've chosen short poems for my kids to recite and afterwards we'll all say what we're thankful for. Before we 're through, Grandpa starts eating and and everyone else joins in. And my pleas to play multi-generational charades fall on deaf ears...even though it would make great pictures. I'm just trying to give my kids the childhood we didn't have.
|by Anonymous||reply 428||11/23/2010|
I'm the 300 scrapbooks, dated and labeled, and collecting dust on the shelves of R428's guest house.
|by Anonymous||reply 429||11/23/2010|
R428, my cousin's wife is just like that. She documents every minute of her kids' lives on film and spends hundreds of hours planning simple bar mitzvah parties for them. She hasn't worked since the oldest kid was born. He's 16, about to drop out, is into alcohol and drugs, dresses goth, and gets into screaming, obscenity-filled rants with both parents. Suddenly, it's not so fun to take pictures of him anymore.
|by Anonymous||reply 430||11/23/2010|
I'm Linda Lavin. Join me on Thanksgiving for the "Alice" marathon on Lifetime. Have some turkey with me, Tommy, Flo, Vera and Tommy. %0D %0D CUE MUSIC%0D %0D "There's a new girl in town and she's looking good. There's a new freckled face in the neighborhood."%0D %0D "Happy Thanksgiving"%0D %0D FADE TO BLACK
|by Anonymous||reply 431||11/23/2010|
I'm the mother-in-law of a friend who refuses to deal with the fact that she's incontinent. She refuses to buy any sort of commercially made products (adult diapers or napkins) and runs through a week of toilet paper in a day by making her own little "blotters". Efforts of leaving those other products and paper towels out in the bathroom have been ignored. All the animals in the house fight to sit next to her because she reeks of pee, and rub their faces on couch where she was sitting. (I'm not making this up, they ran out of TP on Thanksgiving the first year they were married because of her!)
|by Anonymous||reply 432||11/23/2010|
R432, perhaps the subtle approach should be abandoned in favor of the combat approach?
"Wear diapers or pay to clean the futon and eat dinner at the Golden Corral."
|by Anonymous||reply 433||11/23/2010|
I'm your pet, relieved that again I get to stay at home, thereby avoiding any of this annual holiday bullshit.
|by Anonymous||reply 434||11/23/2010|
[quote]I am the sodium laden, French's Green Bean casserole with french-fried onions on top, that everyone is obliged to eat "because its a holiday tradition!" yet regret later that night when they are on the 4th glass of water.
And regret even more at 1:30, 2:15 and 5:00 a.m. as they get up to piss away those four glasses of water.
|by Anonymous||reply 435||11/23/2010|
Holy fuck I swear to GOD that guy in R379's link hit me up for change about a month ago, he said he needed a buck to ride the bus to his halfway house. I remember the upside down pentagram. He was actually very polite when he asked.
|by Anonymous||reply 436||11/23/2010|
I'm your hated Aunt Katherine's spoiled Boston Bull Terrier Billy. If you fuckers weren't here sitting at the dinner table I'd get to sit in my own dining room chair with my own plate of people food like I get for every other meal Mommy makes.
I'm so pissed that I have to sit in Mommy's lap eating off her plate that I start to growl and snap at every movement I see around me. I know that Mommy will blame everyone but me for my mood.
Afterward I'll have one of my "episodes." You know, the one where I stop breathing then run around the house in a panic while Mommy loses her shit and tries to catch me so she can do mouth-to-muzzle?
Yeah, that one.
|by Anonymous||reply 437||11/23/2010|
#432 here-- the incontinent mother-in-law refuses to discuss anything she thinks is "Lady Business". The most she will admit to is that she "dribbles a little bit, just wait until you get old!". They use gallons of the amino acid dog pee treatment after she leaves and air out the house. Just glad she's not in my family!
|by Anonymous||reply 438||11/23/2010|
R438, that is too damn bad. The female in that family can discuss the Lady Business with her. That is unacceptable.
It's no different from a woman refusing to use a tampon or pad during her period and bleeds all over the hostess's furniture. Said family should put it to her in those terms.
|by Anonymous||reply 439||11/23/2010|
R438: The MIL is disgusting and if they don't insist she wears diapers, it's there own fault their furniture is drenched in pee.
|by Anonymous||reply 440||11/23/2010|
We are the two pet dogs from separate families who are always brought to any family celebrations even though we don't get along and fight underneath the dining table, while your small Asian grandmother grimaces and swears under her breath.
|by Anonymous||reply 441||11/24/2010|
I'm your father. I've carefully hidden all the good single malt scotch in the bedroom, and I'll be stopping by Walgreen's this afternoon to buy a couple bottles of the cheapest rotgut they sell to serve to the heathens.
|by Anonymous||reply 442||11/24/2010|
I am the emotional blackmail that is about to ensue as your former-sister-in-law whines to each member of your family about how your brother is behind on his child support and their daughter - YOUR NIECE - has all of these expensive items on her Christmas list, but it's really all she wants and if she doesn't get them, she'll just ignore whatever you try to substitute and not play with anything because she's so depressed and for all intents and purposes doesn't have a FATHER, because YOUR BROTHER HAS ABANDONED HER!
|by Anonymous||reply 443||11/24/2010|
I'm the keep this thread alive bump.
|by Anonymous||reply 444||11/24/2010|
I'm the hostess who wants to have as many "orphans" her family doesn't know over on turkey day to teach my kids a lesson about being kind. Never mind that I've ignored you at work for the last nine months, the weeks leading up to thanksgiving I'm your new best friend. You tell me everytime I ask that you have plans (even if you don't)yet I leave directions to my house on your desk with a note to just drop by. I seem geniunely dissappointed that you didn't come over, but freeze you out shortly thereafter because I don't want you to think we should exchange Christmas cards or gifts.
|by Anonymous||reply 445||11/24/2010|
[quote]You tell me everytime I ask that you have plans (even if you don't) yet I leave directions to my house on your desk with a note to just drop by. I seem geniunely dissappointed that you didn't come over, but freeze you out shortly thereafter because I don't want you to think we should exchange Christmas cards or gifts.
And I'm the smart co-worker who figured out your shit about four days into my employment and knew you'd try this stunt.
Yup. I don't intend to do SHIT for the next four days but at least I won't have to suffer your table of fools.
But Happy Thanksgiving anyway!
|by Anonymous||reply 446||11/24/2010|
I'm the tangled lights that don't work and broken christmas ornaments as you try to get the decorations up tonight so that you can concentrate on the dinner tomorrow.
|by Anonymous||reply 447||11/24/2010|
I'm the oldest sibling, who is old enough to remember just how awful and violent your father was until he married a well-off woman who wouldn't tolerate his shit.
I was a teenager when our mother died and our father basically abandoned us. I understandably have intimacy issues.
I am partnered with a charming guy who is a bit of a child and underachiever. I am partnered with this person because I think I don't deserve better.
I envy my younger sibling, who was raised under much better conditions and has the self-esteem to show for it. I slightly envy his marriage to a woman from a wealthy family and his father-in-law who routinely sends them $10,000 checks just because.
But overall I'm glad my brother has it good because I love him.
|by Anonymous||reply 448||11/24/2010|
I'm Catherine Zeta-Jones, pissed as FUCK that Michael has taken a turn for the better.
|by Anonymous||reply 449||11/24/2010|
|by Anonymous||reply 450||11/24/2010|
I'm the 62 year old stoner Dad who just finished telling a joke that ends with, "fuckin' n*gger." When my youngest child expresses disgust, I'm apologize by saying, "Yeah, I probably shouldn't have said fuckin' in front of the kids."%0D %0D You're an asshole Dad.
|by Anonymous||reply 451||11/24/2010|
I am the turkey that doesn't fit in the refrigerator so I am in the garage on the floor overnight.
i hope I don't poison anyone tomorrow.
|by Anonymous||reply 452||11/24/2010|
I am the insensitive brother in law who takes cheese its off the coffee table while I bend over not noticing my ass is about 10 inches from your face....
|by Anonymous||reply 453||11/24/2010|
I'm the cheesecake that I made last evening for dessert tonight. I'm now in the fridge after being set on the counter to cool. I was still sitting on the counter at 3:30 this morning when my baker woke up and realized that I was still sitting there. My baker is still going to serve me and hope that I will be ok.
|by Anonymous||reply 454||11/25/2010|
I'm the fitness buff who can't resist telling everyone I got up an hour early to hit the gym for an extra long workout so I can eat whatever I want today. After the meal, I will try to get everyone (including those who can barely make to the couch by themselves) to take stroll around the neighborhood. I act shocked when my little brother tells me to give it a rest for just one day.
|by Anonymous||reply 455||11/25/2010|
I'm the beloved aunt who is feeling sick and not coming to the family gathering today. This pisses off her gay nephew because I am the only relative that is sane. With me not there why should he bother showing up either?
|by Anonymous||reply 456||11/25/2010|
|by Anonymous||reply 457||11/25/2010|
I'm the glass-eyed family watching the endless reruns of heatwarming holiday movies that the networks programmed for today. These movies show happy families getting even happier as the films progress. We sit there, envious and getting angrier and angrier at fate for placing us in such a shitty co-dependent family as this one. Soon, someone notices that the liquor is gone except for an ancient bottle of Creme de Cacao and about a quarter inch of Curacao.
Then, mother starts in on how much work she did for the day.
|by Anonymous||reply 458||11/25/2010|
I am dirt. On the floor. Someone didn't wipe his or her feet.
|by Anonymous||reply 459||11/25/2010|
I'm the $87.00 (cost was $65 per person plus gratuitity figured in) wasted on a bad meal tonight at the Kansas City Inter Continental Hotel so you could watch them turn on the Plaza Christmas lights. Horrible meal and service.
|by Anonymous||reply 460||11/25/2010|
That sucks, R460. I would write a letter of complaint, noting (but not getting overly dramatic) you were disappointed by your experience. Specify things such as "a lack of adequate waitstaff to accommodate the large number of guests" or "the lengthy wait between courses, 30 minutes between starter and main is a bit excessive." Don't say your Thanksgiving was ruined, unless something really untoward happened, like a wait person spilling coffee on you without apologizing (my friend actually had garlicky marinara sauce dripped down the back of her shirt once).
Good luck. You might get a paltry $20 gift certificate back to the same place. You can give them another chance or give it to someone you know who is a pain in the ass.
|by Anonymous||reply 461||11/26/2010|
[quote]... or give it to someone you know who is a pain in the ass.%0D %0D I like the way you think.
|by Anonymous||reply 462||11/26/2010|
R463-Yes we tipped her, quite well. We never skimp on tips even if the service is lousy.%0D
|by Anonymous||reply 464||11/26/2010|
I am the adult only child whose mother was NOT happy that I refused to turn on "The Jerry Springer Show" during dinner.
|by Anonymous||reply 465||11/26/2010|
I'm the lazy cattiness that ensues when a cousin's wife introduces the idea of homemade 'pie in a jar' gifts for Christmas.
Ooh, pizza in a jar
meatloaf in a jar
Clean out your fridge AND fill your gift list in one go!
|by Anonymous||reply 466||11/26/2010|
UPDATE: Incontinent Mother-in-law is now wearing adult diapers. She had an accident at doctors' office during the year, and a nurse marched her to the supply closet and gave her a box of diapers. My pal had a dry holiday, but I bet the animals were disappointed. I got to sit next to a bird hoarding couple (over 50 birds) at my dinner. It was fascinating, after seeing all the hoarding shows. They're so in denial. Both have major scars due to what they refer to as "incidents"-- they're really attacks. I can't imagine how stressed out all those birds must be together in one room. The wife calls them all by name and is trying to find them all good homes...yeah right.
|by Anonymous||reply 467||11/26/2010|
Thank you r467...I had a great laugh.
I am the 265 lb 21 y.o. who took a half a plate of mashed potatoes while there were still 20 people behind him in line for food.
|by Anonymous||reply 468||11/26/2010|
I am the anorexic sister in law who was shocked that 2 pounds of mashed potatoes wasn't enough for 20 people. I am her look of disgust when my slightly chubby 12 year old niece asks if there is any more.
|by Anonymous||reply 469||11/26/2010|
I am the temperature of the meat.
I am a huge point of contention between the self-proclaimed "gourmand" who insists that I must never ever approach recommended levels unless we want the food ruined and the three mothers of young children who watch all those scare tv minidocumentaries.
|by Anonymous||reply 470||11/26/2010|
I'm the $2 pie brought to piss off the sister hosting Thanksgiving. She makes most of the food but tells people to bring anything they want. She then gets annoyed when what they bring isn't up to her standards.%0D %0D I'll be making several appearances in upcoming family get togethers hosted by said sister along with some intentionally poorly made side dishes.
|by Anonymous||reply 471||11/26/2010|
How can this thread die so soon after Thanksgiving?
|by Anonymous||reply 472||11/27/2010|
I am ptomaine. I didn't poison you. Salmonella poisoned you.
|by Anonymous||reply 473||11/27/2010|
I'm the Haricot Verts in a Fresh Dill and Rosemary reduction. That pretentious guy over there in the turtleneck brought me. Everyone at this table is sophisticated and oohs ahhs over this new twist on green beans. They all talk about their localvore diets and the little farm where they buy raw goat's milk. Tonight 90% of the guests will buy a Green Giant frozen Green Bean Casserole, eat the entire thing and then vomit, satisfied that they've purged the toxins.
|by Anonymous||reply 474||11/27/2010|
I'm the dish of whipped potatoes. I'm the only edible thing on the table because the cook sucks. Unfortunately, I'm one seat down from you, across the table. To get me, have to reach across the table, dislodging the centerpiece and dragging your sleeve in the cranberry sauce. Alternatively, you could interrupt two conversations to ask people to pass me. The latter will cause all chatter to stop as everyone turns to look at you, the unwelcome family black sheep who's now hogging the potatoes.
|by Anonymous||reply 475||11/27/2010|
I'm the estranged family member you invited over when I reached out to you after my mother, your sister, died. You told me to just come, don't bother to bring anything, everyone just wants to see you again.
I showed up and you stood at the door in shock and made passive-aggressive remarks about having to rearrange the dinner table and only planning for 12 and that 13 is unlucky.
I stay for a cocktail and tell you that I only stopped by to say Hello. Which no one said to me. No one said much of anything TO me, but I imagine quite a lot ABOUT me when they thought I wasn't looking.
No, don't worry--the wine is a gift, and a gift is given without any thought of reciprocation--just a token of my feelings for you.
I leave for the last time.
So, fuck you Aunt Lois and I hope your cancer is much more painful than my mother's.
|by Anonymous||reply 476||11/27/2010|
I am the ancient and overloaded dishwasher. I give up in the middle of the wash cycle and regurgitate dirty water and food slime all over the kitchen floor. Happy Thanksgiving from Kenmore!%0D %0D For an encore, my cousin the refrigerator plans to commit suicide on Christmas Eve.
|by Anonymous||reply 477||11/27/2010|
R477, you're clever. I find that a turn-on. I wish I could come over and fuck you silly.
|by Anonymous||reply 478||11/27/2010|
I'm the passive-aggressive stepgrandmother everyone hates who self-righteously passes on courses at a non-buffet Thanksgiving dinner because I've put on a few pounds and refuse to deviate from the "five small meals a day" plan that will magically help me lose weight without exercise. I've been on this plan for two months and have only lost a couple of pounds, but I have confidence it will someday work. I will make barbed remarks about the "need to stay slender," especially towards my obese daughter-in-law.
I'm the awkward silence in the room when said daughter-in-law accidentally (or not) mentions going to "Grandma & Grandpa's house" after dinner. Sainted Grandma passed 15 years ago, and the gold-digging shrew Grandpa married less than a year later. The shrew immediately insisted after the honeymoon she could not live in "another woman's house" and forced Grandpa out of the home he'd loved for thirty years. The topic of said house is thus radioactive amongst the family members.
I'm Grandpa's adorable 18-month-old great-grandson. I'm very affectionate with everyone else in the family, but I literally recoil in horror and grip the arm of the uncle who's holding me when the shrew approaches. I'm smart for my age, but I know a cunt when I see one.
|by Anonymous||reply 479||11/27/2010|
I'm the person who shows up at the exact time dinner is scheduled with raw ingredients to cook my dish. Everyone else brough prepared dishes. Every burner is being used and the oven is crammed with heating food. I make the hostess, who is usually a relaxed gal, crazy with my last minute demands. %0D What is the specialty that I had to fix here because it doesn't travel well? Brussel sprouts. I shoot the person who grabs a plate and starts the buffett line dagger eyes as they won't wait an additional half hour for my lovely spouts.
|by Anonymous||reply 480||11/28/2010|
I'm the never-married 38-year-old male cousin -- no, you fuckers, I'm seriously not gay; I've been mostly single as an adult because I was a dual alcoholic/pot addict for over a decade before entering recovery five years ago, and thus unable to sustain a non-dysfunctional relationship -- who brought his new fiancee to Thanksgiving dinner. It is understatement to describe my family ties as "dysfunctional"; I rarely talk to my two cousins whom I lived next door to growing up, and my grandfather doesn't even have my number in his cellphone, even though he lives 15 minutes away. My mother has domineered much of my life to the extent that I seriously considered buying the house next door to hers when her elderly neighbor passed away a few years ago. (My father abandoned me and disappeared when I was 4, having been unable to deal with my mother any longer.)
My fiancee and I announced shortly before Thanksgiving -- even knowing that my mother is a wedding FANATIC, one who will attend second- and even THIRD-cousin weddings, and has been desperately waiting for me to marry for close to four decades -- that we will be having a "no family" wedding at the JP's office, and that I will shortly thereafter be moving 1,000 miles away to my fiancee's new place of residence. Oh, and my mom just got dumped by her third and probably final husband, so a wedding would really cheer her up. Throughout a complete Thanksgiving weekend, not just day, with 15 family members in town to celebrate, this subject has been awkwardly handled by every party involved, most of all by my mother, as I am her only child and denying her the privilege of being "mother of the groom" at a grand wedding, simply because I want my marriage to be about *us*, not her.
Mom is now at least 100 pounds overweight. Gee, I wonder why...
|by Anonymous||reply 481||11/28/2010|
I am the turkey carcass that was carelessly thrown out by some "helpful" visiting guest. There will be much wailing from the cook when my absence is finally noticed.
|by Anonymous||reply 482||11/28/2010|
Well R476, you have your dignity hon. Fuck those people.
|by Anonymous||reply 483||11/28/2010|
I am the ex brother in law who shows up at your house with 10 lbs of mashed potatoes.
No,I am not staying for dinner,but these potatoes were promised and I wouldn't want anyone to go without potatoes for Thanksgiving.
Where is the rest of the gang...well we are having our own Thanksgiving dinner at my sister's house since no one wants to see this side of the family.
|by Anonymous||reply 484||11/28/2010|
I am the sideboard which holds all the turkey dinner and fixings.
Each item is delicious...or it would be if it weren't stone cold.
Every year same old routine...7 people in the kitchen all day long ...dinner is served at 8:00 p.m.
Most guests leave hungry.
|by Anonymous||reply 485||11/28/2010|
i am the hostess, wondering why my stupid ex brought all those potatoes. he does it every year, b/c he always bitched that i didn't whip my potatoes with 2 pounds of butter. he should move on, especially since he is remarried to that sweet, but dull, woman with the lazy eye and 5 kids that he met in church during his "Jesus saves" phase.
|by Anonymous||reply 486||11/28/2010|
I'm your cousin's package in tight jeans. I've noticed you staring at me all day (and so has your cousin's wife). We may have done something together once, 25 years ago, but we're almost 40 now. So quit staring.
|by Anonymous||reply 487||11/28/2010|
"Look at that parade balloon. I think it must be the biggest ever."%0D %0D "Grandma, that was Barbara Cook."
|by Anonymous||reply 488||11/28/2010|
I'm your 75-year old father who keeps referring to Asian people as "Orientals" and when Chinese food suddenly comes up in conversation, starts speaking in a weird Charlie Chan accent and biting his lower lip to create an overbite. All this in front of your Asian-American girlfriend.
|by Anonymous||reply 489||11/29/2010|
I am the obnoxious 'pink pudding' that everyone must eat at dessert. It tastes like pure confection sugar, yet strawberry...I do not taste good, but your brother-in-law made it, so you must pretend to like it in order to assuage his lifelong ego problem.
|by Anonymous||reply 490||11/29/2010|
i'm the new boyfriend. my picture is beside of both "dick" and "asshole" in wikipedia. everybody hates me. i haven't held a job for more than 6 weeks, and stopped working a year and a half ago b/c your daughter makes good money, and nobody appreciates my suggestions for improvements or many skills at my various jobs. i know you all loathe me & don't give a rat's ass. i haven't bathed or shaved in days, and needed my hair cut 6 months ago. i try to be extra obnoxious to embarass you, your guests, and your lovely daughter. i make sure to announce we're leaving before you get to spend any time with her. a football game is coming on, and i'm working on isolating you from her. tonight the emotional abuse will escalate. i will enjoy harping about how much she ate today, even though i'm obese. i'm hoping the fat cow will get knocked up to assure my "meal-ticket."
|by Anonymous||reply 491||11/29/2010|
I'm the water heater down in the basement. I picked Saturday to die. I flooded the basement and left a house full of people who don't like each other all that much without the ability to bathe.
I'm pretty pleased with myself.
|by Anonymous||reply 492||11/29/2010|
I'm how long refrigerated turkey leftovers will keep.
Nobody really knows me.
|by Anonymous||reply 493||11/29/2010|
I am the 3 turkey pot pies wrangling for room in the freezer. One will get eaten next week, but the other two will freezerburn to death and be thrown out in July.
|by Anonymous||reply 494||11/29/2010|
I'm the 48 yr old brother who thought it would be ok to bring two 19 yr old strippers to dinner. I don't think anyone noticed when the 3 of us go out to the garage to smoke and come back so stoned that one of them leave the crack pipe in the ash tray. I also can't understand why no one wanted to sit with us to talk. I had LOTS to say.
|by Anonymous||reply 495||11/29/2010|
I am your mother's announcement that she will be visiting you for Christmas. You didn't invite her. And with a million good reasons. But I was made nonetheless in front of people before whom you would embarrass your mother.
|by Anonymous||reply 496||12/01/2010|
I heart R85.
|by Anonymous||reply 497||12/01/2010|
bumping a GREAT thread from last year...
|by Anonymous||reply 498||11/25/2011|
cmon bitches. It's that time of year again - give us your best...
|by Anonymous||reply 499||11/12/2012|
R85, R208 and R339 made me verklempt.
|by Anonymous||reply 500||11/13/2012|
I'm the Magic Mike DVD / Blu Ray disc that is stuck in the DVD / Blu Ray player.
|by Anonymous||reply 501||11/13/2012|
I sit at the kids' table fully inflated with my dish plate left untouched.
|by Anonymous||reply 502||11/13/2012|
Fuck, 2010??? Why 2010?????
|by Anonymous||reply 503||11/13/2012|