Christmas fighting

If we make it through December, we'll be fine.

 

A few years ago, in response to yet another embarrassing episode of family drama, my wife and I instituted a no alcohol at the holidays rule. Any holiday attended by certain family members. Period. Whether it's at our house or your house - if certain family members are in attendance, it's no alcohol, or we'll politely take a pass. The family members in question have agreed to the rule.

We miss having a beer or two, but it has lowered stress levels way more than we ever expected.

This Thanksgiving, we had the largest family holiday in years and, at the end of it, my cousins were marveling about how much fun they had and how, amazingly, nobody ended up mad at anybody.

 

I'm glad we never had that drama in my family. Even my parents, who are divorced and both remarried, go over to one of my siblings' homes in Arizona for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

I'm 1,500 miles away in a place no sane person would want to visit during the winter, so my family and I will just hunker down together.

 

Right now, I really hate Christmas.

I don't have many pleasant Christmas memories from my childhood. Dad usually found some reason or another to yell, holler or hit. That would include beating the crap out of me when I was 17, and on crutches awaiting knee surgery two weeks later.

Yeah, alcohol was involved.

Fast forward. We have to drive all over the countryside to spend time with both sides of the family. I've tried to say no once in a while, but I'm overruled every time. So I shut up, I want my kids to have good memories, not bad.

Because of my work schedule, I didn't get presents bought till yesterday. This morning, I tell the spouse that I will not stay overnight at the in-laws, but come home late to get presents wrapped, get Christmas Eve dinner ready (always been my job.)

So I go to said in-laws under the impression that the Christmas celebration is today. No. It's tomorrow. Did anyone bother to tell me? No. Of course not. Had I known, I would have stayed home today, got shit done and drove there in the morning.

So now I'm home, and again, I'm the evil bastard.

 

When my parents were still married, my dad's brother and two of his daughters were our only relatives within 1,000 miles. The holidays were always super casual and nothing crazy went down.

When my dad got re-married, his wife kept warning us that her family was nuts, but they've been super cool any time I'm around. No one really drinks on the holidays, so maybe that is the one consistent factor that keeps things cool.

Apparently, the year before my dad married his wife, her sister brought home the fiance for the first time. The dude was a total alcoholic (think wake up at 8am, get a beer out of the fridge, doesn't stop drinking until bedtime) and an idiot. Anyways, the story goes that he got so drunk he cursed out grandma, then stumbled into the bedroom and pissed all over his sleeping fiance. At this point, the brother got into a physical altercation that resulted in the boyfriend getting locked out of the house for the night. The guy just stayed passed out on the back porch until the next morning. Oh, and sister was dumb enough to go through and marry the guy.

 

Tip: Living at least an ocean away from your family improves your relationship immensely. Bonus is if you're living hand-to-mouth in a place like Prague or Japan, where something like a cold beer and turkey sandwich simply makes your holiday.

 

Where the hell are you guys on thanksgiving??

 

One of my wife's sisters is a major drama queen. She's about the only person I can't stand on Christmas. She gets really bitchy with my wife and the other sister. I don't see her much, which is fine by me, because I fear one day, there will be a family shouting match because of her.

Not that I'd want to miss it ...

 

On the front door of my parents' house, the sign is already up: "HAPPY FESTIVUS."

 

Oh, hells yes. My relatives have never been more tolerable than on the other end of a phone line.

I tend to wear on people pretty quickly anyway, so spending a week with each side of the family in the summer before hopping back on a plane works out great for me.