You know how in movies, people are always like, “Blerg! Holidays! My family drives me nuts!”
That must be the case for a lot of people, right? Or else it wouldn’t be the theme of so many movies?
That’s never happened to me.
I am so excited for Thanksgiving, I can barely contain myself. I’m not dreading seeing anyone, or plotting ways to get out of dinner — like I know some of you probably are (unless we’re related, in which case you’re aware of our familial awesomeness).
Our holiday dinners are full of delicious food, a lot of laughter, and — this year for sure — football. We don’t have big family dramas (just the occasional normal wee dramas, like regular people) that cast a shadow on the holidays.
The most dramatic holiday we’ve ever had was last Thanksgiving — and that’s only because the turkey wasn’t cooked, and my Grandma lost control of the hand mixer and mashed potatoes exploded everywhere.
Or the year I broke my ankle, only to discover I was allergic to the inner cast wrappings, and my foot and entire leg were covered in massive blisters, and no doctors were open until after Christmas (uh, as an adult, I’m wondering why no one took me to the ER? Mother?!)
Or that time I had mono, but didn’t know it and kissed dozens of people at a New Years party. Sorry suckers.
Or the year my mom served beef stew during a Mad Cow outbreak.
Years ago, before I met Mike, I had to split holiday dinners with various boyfriends’ families, which was tough.*
For starters, my family doesn’t share well. None of us. Holiday dinners elsewhere? Unacceptable.
Plus, I missed them, because like me — they are all awesome.
Which is why I’m glad Mike’s parents like them (or at least pretend to, very convincingly) and will be spending their second Thanksgiving with us this year. (Their first included the turkey/mashed potato fiascos, which they’re still talking about.)
*Although, I could rely on one ex’s family for deep fried turkey, which is amazing, so it was kind of worth it.