HOLIDAYS–HAPPY OR HELL ON EARTH, KISS OFF TO MEN (and women and children)?
Posted November 9th, 2009 by Jill Conner BrowneLike it or not, we are on the slippery slide smack into Holiday Season–Thanksgiving is just the precursor (note the word CURSE in the middle of that–coincidence? I think not!)–to Hanukkah and/or Christmas–I hear some household suffer/celebrate BOTH! What’s it like at YOUR house?
And then, there’s NEW YEAR’S EVE–from which we barely recover in time for VALENTINE’S!
I can’t recall hearing many Easter/Passover Horror Stories–but I would absolutely LOOOVE to hear ‘em if you’ve got ‘em! Or even Memorial Day Disasters or Fractured Fourth of July’s! Why do people go so nutso around holidays–ANY and ALL holidays??? Even THEIR OWN BIRTHDAYS make some people crazy!
Y’all, please remember: I love those TACKY, EVERY-SORDID-DETAIL-OF-EVERYBODY’S-LIVES-FOR-THE-LAST-YEAR “CHRISTMAS LETTERS” as much as I do obituaries–so PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, if you get any–SHARE THEM WITH ME!
Ok–lemme hear from you–don’t let your Disasters be for naught! If I get a good laugh out of ‘em, they are somehow redeemed, don’t you think?!
24 Responses to “HOLIDAYS–HAPPY OR HELL ON EARTH, KISS OFF TO MEN (and women and children)?”
November 9th, 2009 at 10:11 am
one thanksgiving, i was probably twelve or thirteen, my aunt, who can not cook made the turkey. she had been upset that no one had ever asked her to do it before so that year she volunteered before anybody else could. and since everybody knew that the turkey wouldn’t be fit to eat, there was a lot of ham. well my aunt was getting all sorts of upset that no one was eating the turkey. so, the adults decided to get together and draw straws to see whose child would be eating some of the undercooked turkey. well, i won. if you want to put it that way. i had food poising for the next three days….do you know how hard it is to eat something that you know is going to make you sick?
November 9th, 2009 at 10:32 am
Years ago when my kids were little & still coloring & hunting Easter Eggs, we had a dog named “Dammit”. He was a great dog with the kids & they loved him to pieces. He had a great talent for using his front teeth to pick at things. (Our landlord got mad when he plucked one of his prize chickens bald. WTH! The chicken wasn’t hurt at all. It was just naked. Dammit held him down & plucked him clean.) Anywho, we didn’t realize that while we were hiding 12 – 14 dozen dyed eggs, Dammit was running behind us peeling them. The kids were really upset when they went to hunt eggs & all they could find was the colored peels next to the perfectly peeled eggs. He didn’t even eat the eggs! We had to give them money to spend at the store on candy to stop the tears. Looking back, it was hilarious. At the time with 7 kids crying all I could think about was how long it took to dye the damn eggs & the mess it made.
November 9th, 2009 at 11:01 am
My aunt has a pot luck family get together at her house each year on the weekend after Christmas. A couple of years ago, some members of the family neglected to mention that they had had a raging stomach virus for the last few days. These were the FOOD PREPARERS, mind you. Everyone who wasn’t already hurling up their holiday goodies did so for the next week. Good times.
November 9th, 2009 at 11:31 am
Thinks they should make holiday t-shirts with the phrase, “What fresh hell is this?”
November 9th, 2009 at 11:42 am
I remarried in October,1992.It was the second time around for both of us.My daughter was 13 at the time. We moved to Mississippi in March,1992, due to a job situation.I was so homesick the first year that we spent T’giving and Christmas in Florida with my parents.After that first year,I told my hubby that it was time for us to develop our own traditions.No more holiday traveling.When Christmas 1994 rolled around,we decided that we would start a new Christmas dinner tradition.No more turkey and dressing.We would “travel” to a different country each year via international cuisine.This first year would be Mexico.
My 14 year old daughter walked in on me putting out the tacos and enchiladas.We informed her of our decision.She was receptive…we thought.She decided to go see her friend,Jennifer,to see what Christmas loot she gotten.Then she called to say that she had been “invited” to eat Christmas dinner with Jennifer and her family…that she would eat with us “later”.
“Later” she came home with Jennifer in tow. Friend Jennifer was giggling. Apparently, my darling daughter had walked into her friend’s house and erupted with, “Jennifer, can I eat Christmas dinner with you? You will not BELIEVE what my momma is havin’!”..and not believing Roslyn, Jennifer had to come and see for herself. Well….so much for international Christmas. The next year and all subsequent years thereafter, we ate turkey and dressing.Did I mention that the telling of the
story of that first Christmas in Mississippi has now become a tradition?
November 9th, 2009 at 11:43 am
I wrote this in my journal just last week…For the child of divorced parents (which is pretty much all of us by now, is it not?), racing from Dad and Step-Mom to Mom and Step-Dad can look like a Talladega race. Pit stop for pie. Tires rotated for turkey. Racing from house to house at lightening speed intervals can baffle even the most sophisticated GPS systems.
November 9th, 2009 at 11:54 am
Worst Christmas I ever had was the year my Momma left me a $25 check on the tree, then took it from me to “cash.”
I never saw the cash. But I did get a new Bra the next day and some underwear.
LOL
November 9th, 2009 at 11:57 am
One year, my husband invited a co-worker and his son to our house for Thanksgiving dinner. The son was home from college and brought his Russian roommate. It was the Russian boy’s first American Thanksgiving. Well the food all turned out fine but there was an incident. I had lit candles and put them all around the living room. I was in the kitchen when I heard yelling in the living room. The only word I understood was, “FIRE”! I ran out to see what was going on. My husband had our beautiful collie dog, Dusty, down on the ground beating her tail. She had walked past the candles with her long tail wagging and had caught her tail on fire! It happened so fast, she never even knew what happened! All she knew was one minute she’s standing there wagging her tail and the next minute, she’s on the ground. She never even felt it! Now telling that story is our Thanksgiving tradition! No more candles for me!
November 9th, 2009 at 12:00 pm
Years ago when hubby and I were first married, I was wrestling with a turkey that must have been the size of a small child. Well, this turkey was all heavy and slippery, and I could barely get it rinsed in the dang sink.
So I hollered at hubby, and said since his big, muscly arms were stronger than my puny girly arms, would he mind terribly rinsing this for lil’ ol’ me? Not only did big, strong hubby rinse it, but he went ahead and cooked it all his ownself!
I did stand by and instruct him to remove the stuff from the cavity, and gave him my cookbook with the roasting timetable. Other than that, I simply oohed and ahhed at how well he could cook. (Not that I don’t do 95% of the cooking the rest of the time.)
Hubby did such a good job, he is now the O-ffical turkey chef in our house, and I get some time off, plus lots of yummy leftovers on the holidays!
November 9th, 2009 at 1:36 pm
For the first time in five years, I had a real home (not an apartment or trailer house) in which my hubby gave me permission to put a real live Christmas tree. The day after Thanksgiving my Momma and I were driving by a gas station with trees for 10$. Loving a good deal, I couldn’t pass it up. I laid the back seats down and stuffed it in the trunk/backseat.
For the next three hours, Momma and I wrestled with that darn tree trying to get it into a stand. Neither of us ever had done that before. I was sawing off the bottom with a hack-saw, a Sawsall, and a few files I found trying to get it straight. Every time we thought we had it, it would topple over. Finally, we got the darn thing standing. I said if it stood all night, I would put it in the house the next day.
The next morning, the tree was still up. I opened the screen door, and it didn’t latch when I ran to tell Momma. My 3 year old Golden Retriever Reese head-butted the screen and ran out. When I got back to the door, I saw my Reese peeing all over my fancy tree. In the garage. I screamed and he stopped, but not before he got it pretty good. Momma and I nearly wet ourselves trying to get the mess cleaned up. Mr. Clean covered the smell, and a cold shot from the hose rinsed it off.
We didn’t tell anyone until after Christmas. tee hee!
November 9th, 2009 at 1:39 pm
In the early 70′s, when I was about 10, my grandfather announced that he had another “child” in the form of a high school senior he had fathered with his current wife (but who they put up for adoption when they were still having their affair). Anyway, my aunt was a bit of an emtional wreck that year (going through her own divorce)and it was decided not to tell her about her newly found sister. Anyway, we had the whole family over for Christmas Dinner, and my mom and her brother took all of us kids aside and told us that we were not to mention Darlene to Aunt Sarah…she was too fragile to handle the news of a long-lost half-sib in the middle of everything else.
Well, we kids were sitting in our family room playing games, and my mom’s brother was enjoying the egg nog a bit too much. All of a sudden, there is a lull in all the conversation, and Uncle Joe says, “Man, Sarah, if you think you got it bad, wait’ll you hear about dad and the daughter he never knew he had until a month ago. Yeah, We have another sister!! Hahahahahah!” We kids all looked at each other (knowing we had been threatened within an inch of our lives if WE dared mention it), and I looked into the living room in time to see my mother roll her eyes, and say, “Joe, you have a really BIG MOUTH!” My Aunt Sarah just sat and said nothing–for the next 2 HOURS!! The grown ups just changed the subject, talked around her…finally Aunt Sarah gets up and puts on her coat, announces she is leaving, and drove home (we know because my father threw his coat on and followed her there). We don’t know what happened after that, only that for about 6 months my aunt and grandfather weren’t speaking. And I’m 45, but every year at Christmas we have to hear the story about how Uncle Joe “spilled the beans.”
November 9th, 2009 at 1:43 pm
The best part about Christmas 2007 having my Uncle Willard and Aunt Nooie here…it’s been so long since we’ve spent Christmas with them.
My Christmas morning started early that year–around 5 AM, but not with HO HO HO the Jolly Old Elf, but the confusion of one not-so-jolly old elf. It seems that Uncle Willard woke up about 4 AM and when he looked into a mirror, he noticed something didn’t look right and upon closer inspection, he realized his teeth, that he was sure he had in his mouth when he went to bed, we no longer there! He woke Aunt Nooie up announcing he had lost his teeth and the search was on. They searched the living room — moving cushions and turning over chairs. They then turned to the bedroom tearing everything off the bed, looking under the bed and still, nothing. They repeated the process and during the second search of the bedroom, Aunt Nooie recalled that she had heard on Ripley’s Believe it Not, that someone had actually swallowed their false teeth. The more he thought about it, he began to feel a lump in his throat and decided that he had indeed swallowed his top plate! Then the panic began.
It was now 4:30 AM and he woke up Mama and Pop saying, “Rene, get up, you gotta take me to the hospital.”. “What’s the matter”, Pop asked. “I swallowed my teeth.” Well, they figured, it being Uncle Willard — the man who sent his mother to the store to buy dehydrated water — that he was joking and they laid back down and began to doze back off, only to be woken up a few minutes later buy an even more panicked Uncle Willard urging them to get up. Mama said, “You were serious?”. “Yes I’m serious, I swallowed my damn teeth!” Pop then got up and began dressing at his usual speed and, much to Uncle Willard’s amazement, started making a pot of coffee and made Mama a cup of coffee and took it to her. While making the coffee, a thought occurred to Pop and he asked Uncle Willard, “How are you gonna pass that?” to which Uncle Willard replied, “With great difficulty.”
Luckily, before they actually left the house, Aunt Nooie found his teeth under the mattress on his side of the bed. When he went to bed, he complained that his mouth was dry and in his sleep he apparently pulled them out and tucked them under the mattress for safe keeping. Unfortunately, I slept through the whole ordeal (I guess if Pop can sleep through a car nearly driving through the house, I can sleep through this). I didn’t have a front row seat, but when I woke up about 5:30 in desperate need of coffee, Aunt Nooie asked if they’d woke me up. I said no and she was surprised and told me the story. My reaction? Let’s just say, I’m glad I was standing in a doorway, otherwise I’d have been sitting on the floor. Like Mama said, it is a Christmas morning that will live on forever.
November 9th, 2009 at 1:47 pm
We told our families that we had become Vegans this year and would be serving no meat, no dairy, no gluten and no sugar. And no alcohol, as it seems to trigger migraines. They have made other arrangements. We will be in Jamaica, suckin’ down Coronas.
November 9th, 2009 at 2:01 pm
My grandmother was a tiny delicate flower of a woman and I am not. I’m not even 5’10″, but in her eyes I was always this giant.
Well, comes Christmas day when I am about 20 years old, and just the cutest thing ever, as so many 20 year olds are. I had also brought my first serious type beau home for the holidays. I have one gift left to open and its from Grandmama. For some reason known only to her, she bought me underwear. Not cute, 20 year old underwear, but giant white granny panties. In a size 10. I’m not sure you’ve ever seen size 10 underwear, but you could parachute with this stuff. My tiny sister is laughing and pointing (beyotch)and new serious beau turned pale and then died laughing with my brothers.
The next birthday, Grandmama gave me a used make up bag and some leftover free samples. And from then on, my mother bought all of my gifts and signed her name to them.
November 9th, 2009 at 2:34 pm
I too have been the vitim of the used makeup! One Easter we all pile up in the car and go to my grandmother’s house for dinner. Once we get there we all see the huge baskets she has obviously spent a great deal of time making and filling with gifts for all of the cousins.. all except me! I wasnt upset until she pulled a tiny basket (like everybodys gramma has filled with wee-little soaps) off the back of the toilet and filled it with used makeup and some stolen candy from my aunt’s basket and tried to pass it off with the other baskets! Then the aunt who ended up losing some candy to my makeshift basket throws a temper tantrum until I give the candy back, I was mortified! I just add it, among other things, to the lit of things I promise not to do to my kids
November 9th, 2009 at 2:49 pm
One year my two oldest kids, whom were maybe 5 and 3 at the time, fed our Rottweiler around 25 Easter eggs…..I found ‘em sitting on the back porch tossing the eggs in the air, the dog catching ‘em…this dog was not fit to be around for days…
The first Christmas that my husband and I owned our own home, as opposed to apartment living, I just HAD to have a huge tree, carried on about it, even. Well, I succeeded in my quest. We got home, propped open the back door and attempted to wrestle the monster into the house.
The tree didn’t appear quite that large in the tree lot, nor in the back of the pickup, however it was about 6 feet wider than the doorway.
We decided on a running start (we were much younger then, maybe 19 or 20) out in the yard, up the steps, and into the house. It was like something out of the movies when you see folks breaking down doors with a battering ram?
Third try, got her in….only to discover, now, its about 3 feet too tall, can’t stand it up..
My ever resourceful husband said, “Don’t move, wait here.” He went to the shed for the chain saw, opened all the windows, fired it up and proceeded to saw the bottom third off the tree in the living room.
One year we bought the kids bicycles for Christmas. Money was quite tight, and I decided not to pay the extra charge to have the bikes assembled, we’d do it after the kids went to bed Christmas Eve..
Well…we got the major part done, but couldn’t manage to get the brakes to work…might have had something to do with shaking Jim Beam’s hand, but I like to think they packed the wrong parts…lucky for us, there was too much snow for bike riding.
But…a few years after that we bought them all snowboards, hid them under the bed…forgot all about them till it started snowing later on Christmas Day. I was looking out the window, thinking Oh how sweet, snow on Christmas…then it hit me..I was like..Oops, We told the kids that Santa had snuck in Mom and Dad’s room and left more presents…
November 9th, 2009 at 3:55 pm
Well, I have this all down to a science. It has worked for the past 3 years and I don’t see how it can’t keep on working. I am from a divorced family and I too have 2 divorces under my belt. I have two grown children and 3 grandchildren.One of my son’s has a divorce under his belt and his mother-in-law and has an ex too. I never put the “guilt” trip on them to come see thier mama on the holiday’s. I always say that I know they have various inlaws and outlaws that they must see and more food prepared for them than a small army.I know how wonderful it is for all the cousins to bond and get to know each other. *EG* I always say I am going to spend the holiday with so and so. “SO AND SO”.. is me. I buy a small hen and make a bit of dressing, add some veggy’s and rolls, open a bottle of wine and enjoy my THANKSGIVING DINNER. Then I laze around in the bed all day. I watch hours and hours of Hallmark Chanell movies or Lifetime. I avoid all the family feuds and everyone just assumes I am with someone else. *LOL*.. This is what works best for me. Me and BLUE MOON,the new puppy, are going to eat the hen and whatever else we want to and it will be done behind closed doors and a beautful sign on the door will read.. GONE FOR THE HOLIDAY’S.. shhhhh..About the same thing happens at Christmas.. Talk about Peace On Earth.I even have good will toward men after a day all alone. *LOL*.. ENJOY YOUR HOLIDAY’s.. I WILL BE AT SO AND SO’S HOUSE.
November 9th, 2009 at 4:13 pm
Oh my lord, long story, this is why we call the Christmas of 2007 “Black Christmas”…I co-own the old family farm in southern Missouri with one of my sisters. She actually lives MUCH closer to it (2-hour drive) as compared to me (14-hour drive). Me and my sweet husband, along with our two beloved French bulldogs, made the long drive to have a good old fashioned family Christmas. After that many hours on the road with one good dog and one not so good dog (the valium our vet prescribed didn’t even TOUCH her anxiety), we finally made it there. Once there, we walked in and found that everything seemed to be covered with a layer of THICK BLACK dust. Not the ordinary, haven’t dusted in awhile kind of dust, but THICK BLACK DUST. Well, we soon discovered that the old furnace had blown up in it’s one last belch of power and covered every single thing–I mean EVERY flat surface, in that big old farm house with it’s last breath of black powder before dying and leaving everything cold, and covered in black soot. Oh well, we thought, we’ll muddle through, and besides, I’m not getting back in the car with the dogs again, at least not today. Pretty soon my Sister showed up with her 4 kids and tiny little chihuahua (one of my Frenchies took an immediate liking to that little chihuahua, but NOT IN A GOOD WAY). My sis immediately decided that the situation was way too much to handle and heavily self-medicated and took to her bed (amidst the black dust) and left me and my Sweet husband to cook, clean, decorate and watch her kids, not to mention keep the dogs separated. Christmas came and went, everyone went around in black face because there was no avoiding it. As I recall, no actual photographs were taken of this particular Christmas because it was just too depressing. Even my white french bulldog turned black. Our clothes were all ruined. The day after Christmas we gathered our strength and made a break for it. We hit the road back to Colorado. Somewhere in Kansas, it started snowing like nobody’s business. We were low on gas and pulled over at a little mom & pop quick stop for gas and coffee. I ran inside to potty and to get coffee for us both and we got back on the road. Just a mile or two down the highway, the “gas” light came on in the car. My Sweet Husband said “what the?” and then a big smile came over his face and he said, “You know what. I forgot to get gas.” And I said “How could you forget to get gas, you were pulled up to the tank when I went inside to get coffee?”. Then he explained, that he had taken the dogs out of the car for a quick walk and while walking around the parking lot, had happened upon a magazine in the parking lot, opened to the centerfold, and there is no other way to describe it other than “fatty porn”. Apprarently, the fatty porn had so agitated my Sweet Husband, that he had actually forgetten to get gas in the almost empty car. I laughed so hard, I thought I would die. We finally made it back to CO the next day and swore NEVER to travel again for Christmas.
November 9th, 2009 at 5:06 pm
The wonderful man I married is from a redneck (borderline white trash) southern family. I am from an upper middle class family from up North. The first 3 years of our relationship were a shock to the system. Our first Thanksgiving together I dutifully prepared a green bean casserole as had already been decided between his mother and myself. This was to be my contribution to the feast. My husband and I showed up at 2 o’clock as requested, only to find that we were the only ones there. His 4 other siblings and their families hadn’t shown. The food was ready so he, his parents, and myself sat down and ate. About 2 hours later his sister shows up with her common-law-husband and her 3 kids. She was piss-crazy drunk. Her family had spent the day four-wheeling while she sucked down two boxes of merlot. She brought an uncooked green bean casserole which she attempted to put in the oven. When her mother told her that since I had brought one already warm and we had already eaten, why didn’t she just put hers in the fridge for now. Apparently she didn’t want someone else stealing her green bean thunder. She turned on me like a pit viper. Through merlot stained teeth and lips she reemed me out with some creative profanities. Her mother (a tough wirey southern gal) snapped at her to behave herself and watch her language while in her mama’s house. My inebriated new sister then burst into tears (as 40-something women do) and ran into the front yard sobbing. Her husband followed her out and the rest of us sat back down to watch a poker tournament on cable.
Our second year together we spent drinking around a bonfire in the backyard. We had to clear the house due to a grease fire caused by a cheap aluminum turkey pan. We got the fire under control but the house was filled with smoke for hours.
Another year my sister-in-law hosted. One of her dogs got into the styrofoam tray-style plates we were using and chewed them up. She told us to make sure we put non-liquids into the compartments without the chew holes. She never washed them after taking them from the dog. Her other dog, got onto the kitchen table where the desserts were kept and ate the center out of a pumpkin pie. She told us it was still good, just to eat around that part.
My husband and I have only been married 5 years. EVERY year is a doozy.
November 9th, 2009 at 8:04 pm
A few holiday stories –
My mother had me on December 16th. She (from a very large Irish-Catholic northern family) told my father (a hillbilly from Arkansas who never had a christmas tree in his house) that there WILL be a Christmas tree in their apartment upon my and my mother’s arrival home from the hospital. The next 2 kids were born in the Summer, so no holiday tree issues.
A couple Thanksgiving stories — My Aunt Kate scrubbed everything with a brillo pad. Always. So, the year it came for Grandma to host Thanksgiving, no one could find the brillo pad my Aunt had used to clean the pan they cooked the turkey in. The reason? It was cooked underneath the turkey!
Now – my Mom’s turn to host Thanksgiving several years later. She had invited her brother, sister in law and their 6 kids – (5 girls/1 boy) to dinner – so that equaled about 14 at 2 combined tables. The boy won’t eat greens, so my mother just keeps piling the greens on his plate. My Mom’s sister (the oh-so-proper one) was daintily eating a roll when my Uncle Paul (Mom’s brother) requests a roll. My mother picked up a roll from the dish and wings it down the table of 14. My Aunt about choked on her roll.
My brother is a huge “Green Beans and mushroom soup” fan. Never mind that he grabs the glass lid from the dish, and promptly drops it back down on the dish, breaking the lid into a gazillion pieces. Bryan then tried to eat AROUND the glass, just to get some green beans and mushroom soup.
Happy Holidays!
November 9th, 2009 at 8:33 pm
My grandson has always just loooved pumkin pie, don’t know why I only make it for holiday dinners. Well the year he was 8 he ate a big turkey leg and trimmings and then didn’t have room right then foir dessert. He left the table before we had passed the pie therby missing the scene where my husband dropped it pie side down on the floor. Did you ever try to explain to a small child that there isn’t any pie when he has seen one on the table? He didn’t talk to grandpa for several days
November 9th, 2009 at 10:09 pm
I come from a big family and miss those huge family gathering.
I remember one Christmas when my Mom, Aunt Penny, Aunt Sally and Grandma were all in the kitchen. Now this wasn’t some puny kitchen live they make today, my mamas kitchen could easily hold 10 of us for dinner plus room to move around in. (God I miss that kitchen!)
Ah now, the veggies were cooking, the potatoes boiling, and finally the announcement that the 20+ pound monster Turkey is done.
The ladies gather around the bird to lift the cooking pan up out of the oven. Then two grab the lifting rack to gently slide the bird onto the Turkey Platter that is being held by another two sets of hands.
Well the plan was working great until (don’t you love the UNTIL part) the bird got stuck on the lifting rack and wouldn’t slide gracefully off like a good Tom is supposed to. So mom decides to give him a helping hand and pushes him off, he slides on to the plater, which tips from his huge weight and then drives very gracefully for the floor.
True be told the turkey (legless in the accident) still tasted great and the dog got an early snack.
November 10th, 2009 at 4:49 pm
The funniest Christmas story I ever heard was forwarded by a friend the other year. I wish I could remember its origin, but I may be able to dig it up or ask him about it.
The story involved the gag gift of an inflatable doll given by one man to his brother, and the ensuing holiday dinner, which included a rather miffed grandma. The holiday meal went tolerably well, until Miss Dollface suddenly developed a leak, which sent her flying around the room to land in a heap before the sofa.
All were pretty well beside themselves with laughter, save Gramps, who was concerned about the “girlfriend’s” condition, and Grandma, who marched straight out to the car and stayed there. If anyone else knows this one, holler. Still, I will try to find the original letter, if possible.
November 19th, 2009 at 4:24 pm
I finally managed to dig up the original letter regarding my above post. My friend had written that the essay, titled “Xmas at Meemaw’s”, had won a writing contest in the Louisville Sentinel, in 1999. An internet hunt led me to a website about this, which stated there was no Louisville Sentinel, let alone a contest. I still cannot find who wrote the story, though. If anyone’s interested in this piece of fiction, (and it is awfully funny) you can go on:www.truthorfiction.com/rumors/l/louise.htm
and read it for your ownself, if anyone’s curious.