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I’m 36 years old and I know better, but this year I’m letting myself be childish and say exactly what I’m thinking to everyone I encounter. (On the internet, I seem to be the last to get on board with this anyway.) So here goes: To all of the whiny, selfish, egotistical, narcissistic asshats who wrote in—I hate you. You all suck. Emily knows it, the other readers know it, and since you bothered to write, I suspect that somewhere, deep down inside, you know it, too.
Christmas Eve isn’t exactly as it was when you were a child? Good God, the horror. Your brother’s in laws want to be part of the family? Heaven forfend. Imma tell you a story. My father died 15 years ago and my mom died this spring, so it’s our first Christmas without any parents. (We being me and my sister, at whose home we’ll celebrate, because she’s on a ventilator and can’t get out much. I, at least, have a lift van to carry me and my wheelchair.) We couldn’t be at our childhood home anyway, because it was sold in 1998 and burned down shortly after. So our holidays are pretty much nothing but in laws. Me, my husband, his brother, my sister, her husband, his mother. There aren’t even any children. Our family’s nearly extinct and you’re whining about too many people to party with? You’re not ten anymore. Grow up and get on with life.
And the rest of you? Jesus Christ in a manger. My brother’s trying to reach out to me with gifts and humility but I want to ignore him. What do I do? What do you do? He’s your freaking BROTHER. You give him a chance, loser. My aunt and uncle send me money but it’s too small an amount to justify writing a thank you card. Boo hoo. How do I make them stop being nice people and turn into ungenerous wankers like me? Let’s hope you can’t. Wanker. And going to church on Christmas? WTF? It’s pretty, the music’s nice, and it, Makes. Your. Mommy. Happy. Even with the extra long holiday Masses, that’s a total of 4 hours out of your year to do something that evidently means something to the woman who gave you life. And still wants you around, although I can’t see why. Maybe if you’re a little more self centered and whiny she’ll get the message and let you go. Then you can do whatever the hell you want on Christmas Eve. Alone. Won’t you be happier then?
You people make me sick. All any of this comes down to is your families want to be close to you, and give to you, and share the things they love with you. And those things aren’t even possum stew and competitive arm wrestling. It’s Christmas. They want to share Christmas. I feel bad for them that they don’t have more deserving relatives to share it with.
"This is a beautiful response to a bunch of jackass advice seekers.
