Thanksgiving The Annual Family Hostage Situation
Dear Uncle Bobby, Thanksgiving is this Thursday, and my family is already gearing up like it’s some kind of emotional Olympics. I love them, I really do, but every year I leave these gatherings feeling like I survived a hostage situation. Between the political debates, the guilt-trips, and the cousin who turns every board game into a war crime, I’m not sure I’m mentally prepared. How do I make it through the holiday without catching a charge?
ScourgeOfRelatives,
Turkey-Traumatized in Advance
Ah, Thanksgiving — the one day of the year we voluntarily sit in a room with people we’d politely avoid in any other context and call it “tradition.” And you’re worried about committing a crime? Honey, Thanksgiving is the crime. We’re all just trying to reduce the sentencing.
Let me give you the survival guide they won’t print on those Pinterest boards your aunt keeps sending.
Rule one: Strategic Avoidance.
Identify your highest-risk relatives early. Political Uncle? Avoid. Conspiracy Cousin? Avoid. The aunt who whispers insults under the guise of compliments? Oh absolutely avoid — she’s a psychological sniper. Your goal is to move through the house like a CIA operative: efficient, evasive, and mildly disappointed in everyone.
Rule two: Master the Fake Phone Call.
It’s not rude, it’s self-preservation. The moment someone starts a sentence with “You know what the problem with your generation is…”, you put that phone to your ear like you’re being summoned by the Pentagon. Throw in a few nods and a “copy that” and boom — you’ve escaped.
Rule three: Create a Safe Zone.
Historically, this is the garage. The garage is a sacred sanctuary where you can breathe, sip a drink, and contemplate your life choices while pretending you’re checking on… something. Doesn’t matter what. Garage activities are above reproach.
Rule four: Handle the Board Games Like a Pro.
Look, every family has a cousin who turns Monopoly into a full-blown military coup. If someone pulls out a board game, you smile politely, claim you’re “digesting,” and immediately hide behind the nearest elderly relative. If forced to play, choose something impossible to argue about — like charades — but be aware: someone will argue anyway.
Rule five: The Leftovers Maneuver.
Remember, people don’t show up for family. They show up for food. Guard your to-go containers like state secrets. If your freeloading cousin starts packing up the turkey before the dishes hit the sink, you have my full permission to enforce boundaries with both hands.
And finally: Don’t rise to the bait.
Someone will try to push your buttons. Someone will say something outrageous. Someone will ask why you’re “still single” or “still renting” or “still not making real money.” When that happens, do what I do:
Smile.
Take a long sip of something brown.
And remind yourself that not committing a felony is the real Thanksgiving miracle.
You’re gonna make it, kid. Not because your family gets easier — but because your tolerance for nonsense grows stronger with age. That’s growth. That’s maturity. That’s holiday survival.
– Uncle Bobby