Comments on: HOLIDAYS–HAPPY OR HELL ON EARTH, KISS OFF TO MEN (and women and children)?

By: Kathy T.

Kathy T. — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 22:24:21 +0000

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.

By: Kathy T.

Kathy T. — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 22:49:39 +0000

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.

By: Hope Bennett

Hope Bennett — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 04:09:38 +0000

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.

By: pauline kelley

pauline kelley — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 02:33:29 +0000

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

By: sharon

sharon — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 02:04:22 +0000

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!

By: Libby

Libby — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 23:06:20 +0000

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.

By: PennyP (aka Apple Crack Queen)

PennyP (aka Apple Crack Queen) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 22:13:50 +0000

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.

By: Ramona Gooch

Ramona Gooch — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 21:55:40 +0000

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.

By: Scarlet

Scarlet — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 20:49:32 +0000

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…

By: Kristina

Kristina — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 20:34:39 +0000

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