Context: It’s that time of year again! Time to reunite with the family you see exactly one time each year, and become the victim of a seemingly endless stream of questions about what you’re doing with your life? And how is you-kn0w-who* doing, and have you thought about children because, you know, you’re not getting any younger! And then, just as Great Aunt Mildred begins to ask you why you couldn’t be more like your brother, you attempt suicide by stuffing five rolls into your mouth so you’re physically unable to breathe. Ah, the holidays!
TD has been there, and we’re here to help. We’ve prepared the following guide to help you navigate family holiday conversations WITHOUT leaving in a messy pile of tears. Thots don’t cry. You have to have feelings to cry.
*My ex-boyfriend, not to be confused with Voldemort
DON’T: Let anyone know you’re single
You know what happens to single bitches? YOUR FAMILY TRIES TO RUIN YOUR LIFE. Case in point, this conversation I had with my mom two days ago:
M – Are you still dating JT? Can I meet him?
J – Mom, I told you, we’re not dating. I’ve known him for 3 weeks. We’re just hooking up and seeing what happens. Also no you can’t meet him that’s fucking weird.
M – So I met this guy at My Eye Dr. yesterday…
J – Oh, no… mom, PLEASE don’t say you gave him my number…
M – His name is Ali, and he’s 26, and he went to George Mason, and YES he is only a receptionist right now but he has DREAMS! AMBITIONS! He wants to be an optometrist, and I talked to him, and he has the kind of heart and soul you deserve, J. Not like that awful drug boy you dated…
J – Mom, that was high school. He sold weed in high school. I haven’t talked to him in years.
M – ANYWAY GAVE HIM YOUR NUMBER LMK WHEN HE TEXTS YOU
DO: Creatively spin the conversation in your favor
Every betch needs to know her strong points. Are you kicking ass in your career? Making serious gains in the gym? Fucking a Redskins tight end? Have your trump card in your back pocket and whip it out whenever necessary.
Aunt Mildred – So, Sally! How is that little boyfriend of yours? He was always so sweet, I loved having him over.
Sally – Hahahahahhaha well hecheatedonmeandwebrokeup BUT GUESS WHAT I GOT STRAIGHT A’s THIS SEMESTER ARE YOU PROUD
Aunt Mildy – Wait, he… cheated on you? Honey, I’m sorry, but you have gained weight, and you can’t expect a boy with that pedigree to stick around when you let yourself go…
Sally – YEP, ALL A’s! EVEN IN ORGANIC CHEMISTRY. I MIGHT GRADUATE TOP OF MY CLASS! AREN’T YOU HAPPY FOR ME?!
Milds – Sweetie, of course I am. Maybe you’ll find a guy who is too. In the mean time, why don’t you load your plate with more greens…
DON’T: Succumb to the ‘Hey Stranger’ text
There’s nothing like the holidays to bring all the fuckboys out of the woodwork. The logic here is that, if they were to just text you “hey how are you” on any given day, that would be clingy and counter to everything the fuckboy believes in (read: not giving a shit). However, if they wish you a happy Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or – I don’t fucking know, third night of Hanukkah – that makes them sweet, caring humans. Maybe you’ll want to rekindle the flame!
Don’t fall for this shit, guys. The correct method of attack is evidenced in this actual conversation I had yesterday:
Fuckboy – Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you’re having a wonderful day with family!
J – Thanks! My boyfriend and I can’t wait to tell my family that I’m pregnant!
F – Oh
F – Congrats I guess
F – *deletes my number*
DO: Lace your dish with NyQuil
You always bring your world famous sweet potato casserole – it just wouldn’t be a family Thanksgiving without it! And there’s no bigger fan than Uncle Jeff. Man, he can shovel that stuff away into his beer gut faster than I can ghost on a guy who’s too nice. Sure would be a shame if that very casserole he loved also put him into a deep slumber…
Uncle Jeff – And that’s why I think Donald Trump’s decision to abolish the board of education is a spectacular idea. FUCK standardized testing. Now, onto my opinions about how birth control is the devil’s wor-
Uncle Jeff – *falls off chair, rests peacefully on floor in fetal position*
J – Will you all please excuse me? I need to take my birth control.
And, finally, the Ultimate DO: Drink heavily
Like, is there really any question? Raid your parents’ full bar, and remember the golden rule – if it pairs well with coffee, it’s acceptable at any hour of the morning.
Best of luck, bitches! And remember – when all else fails, blame food poisoning and commit to the charade.