Let's be a terrible Thanksgiving

"Brandi, is this husband four or five? I can't keep track anymore"

Oh please do keep telling us stories about where you won't shop because it's beneath you!

I’m the Stovetop stuffing

I'm the grandkid with the tattoo and I am the least loved.

Choking down some hella dry turkey or super salty damn ham.

I'm verifying who made the potato salad before I eat it.

I'd like to say a few words about my cis, white, straight dad before we proceed.

According to Newsmax....

I'm covid and I am set to turn dinner into a super-spreader event.

We're Florida!

In a religious teetotaler family I'm the only drinker. At the table everyone looks sideways at my red Solo cup.

I'm the four pumpkin pies people brought, and no chocolate or cherry or apple ...

I'm the youngest daughter's weird vegan boyfriend.

Well, you know, in fairness r6, maybe some verification is necessary.

I'm the Mormon Tabernacle Choir playing in the background

I’m the new pronouns that must be used for various family members, this is going to be mine field.

I'm the frozen turkey that the hosting newlyweds didn't realize they needed to start thawing last Saturday!

But her emails….

I'm the commercially-made, bagged croutons. Sprinkle me on the bagged "spring mix" salad. Then, glug some commercially-bottled dressing on me.

"I get that they died in a shooting and that's tragic and all, but they are perverts and aren't getting into heaven."

my mil's baked mac and cheese. With diced onions (the store bought pre-chopped) mixed in.

“You need oven space AND my cook top? I serve dinner in 20 minutes.. I know; you can use my stove in 20 minutes. Touch anything and you’ll pull back a stump, Aunt Fran.”

I’m all the recyclables in the trash bin because the recycle bin has already been filled with trash. Or vice versa.

Let's be a typical Thanksgiving

I’m your father’s newest wife who is committing the mortal sin of hanging out with the guys drinking beers out on the deck while the other women cook.

I will never be accepted into the family because of this.

"You know what is wrong with JOE FUCKING BIDEN?"

The election WAS stolen.

“If only the teacher had a rifle…”

“Remember Mrs. Letts? They say she pointed out the kids she wanted shot first!”

“I do, and and I do, and I do for you kids, and this is the thanks I get!”

“Which one of you is the wife?”

I'm the clogged kitchen sink.

“What do you mean you feel like a woman? What does a woman feel like?”

What’s wrong with Ron DeSantis?

I’m the troubled cousin, passed-out on the front lawn.

I'm the one annoying Vegan family member who can't eat ANYTHING on the table except the lame salad I brought.

And I'm going to bitch about it all night.

I’m the alcoholic friend that you didn’t want to invite but your other friend begged you to give him a chance. I’ll pour a bottle of red wine all over the table trying to fill my glass. I’ll then pour what did make it into the glass on your living room rug and into another guest’s expensive handbag before falling over the couch and passing out. On my way out, I’ll vomit repeatedly and leave little piles of vomit all down your front steps and sidewalk.

I'm the terrible jello (lime and strawberry with cream cheese) made for the first time by the 14-year-old niece.

I melt when taken out of the mold. The niece starts crying and everyone has to stop eating to comfort her.

I'm the gravy in the refrigerator.

At 3 a.m., obese Aunt Heather sneaks downstairs and drinks me straight from the gravy boat.

I taste better warmed, but ok.

"Let me tell you all about how woke the military has become. It's a travesty I tell you.."

I'm the one dog that couldn't be left at home, when everyone was told no dogs. I might be cute in pictures, but I'm a fucking hyper, untrained piss bag. You'll find my hostess gift(s) sometime before the new year.

I'm the one dog who was left at home even though I'm a sweet well trained companion. I spend my 8-hour day alone, ripping up a toilet roll.

"Stop deadnaming me."

I’m miss sissyboodles who starts vomiting violently in the middle of dinner and needs to taken to the emergency vet

"I know it's not the greatest Thanksgiving meal, but it's all I could afford, thanks to Joe Biden raising the prices of everything."

I’m the loose floor rug. I bring on mom’s broken hip just before dessert.

“Only n*****s eat Mac n cheese at thanksgiving.”

I'm the perv uncle telling the tweens how fast they grew

I'm the drunk aunt who kisses her nephews too much

I’m raw turkey.

If I can accommodate your feelings by accepting you as a boy, you can accept my feelings that Clarabelle is a lovely name. Besides, I’m too old to learn a new name for you.

I’m the smell of weed coming from the garage.

This happened this morning so everyone will be discussing. My 22 yo niece posted a FB screed about the evils of celebrating Thanksgiving and white people and the subjugation of the native Americans.

She's camping with her ethnic, bi bf who insists on being called they/them so she won't be there in spirit but all the oldsters will be talking about her.

I'm the ice-cold mashed potatoes brought over 15 minutes before dinner is served by my passive-aggressive sister.

I'm alone, broke, no cigs or weed, dinner is ramen.

I'm the only alcohol available. Who's having a taste?

“Has it really been twenty-five years since INXS’ Michael Hutchence died from AOC?”

I'm Hunter Biden's Stove Top Stuffing

I'm Beau Biden

No one is eating the gelatinous, just plopped from the can, cranbury sauce. Now...it's melting into a puddle of red goo, and looking more disgusting as the dinner goes on.

"This country is being taken over by the n****** and the f******

I’m Uncle Bottom’s sausage stuffing.

I'm the mysteriously overflowing toilet that no one will admit to clogging.

I'm Aunt Sarah attempting to call a plumber on holiday.

I'm the plumber describing the hideous clog he had to snake out of the toilet and showing photos he captured while everyone is eating dessert.

Hahaha! ^^^

I'm the four-year-old "prodigy" sitting on an adult chair squeezed at the table because the mother said, "My child will not be infantilized with the slower children in the breakfast room!" suddenly and explosively shits his pants and guess what gets flung across the table right at Grandma, the mother-in-law?

I'm the toxoplasmosis being delivered in the cream cheesed celery brought in by Fat Pat "The Cat Cousin."

Does the baby lick Mommy's finger for a wee tang of cream cheese?

I'm your always perfect sister in-law who hate you, but with a smile.

I don't let my kids eat anything with sugar or palm oil, or transgenic, etc. I'm ruining my kids relationship with food forever and and they will never feel good enough for my standards

I’m the gal with six children, who thinks announcing the news that the impending 7th is on the way, thinking it’s a swell way to cap off the evening.

The odd silence is broken by the sound of her husband’s shotgun firing in the carport. Autopsy will reveal it the head wound was self-inflicted.

I'm that first blowjob someone gets down in the rec room and it ain't from Aunt Jo.

I'm old ass drunk Aunt Jilly lamenting through copious tears the same old story of how your Grandma fucked the love of my life 50 years ago, destroying forever the most important relationship of my life! SO WHAT IF WE HAD ONLY BEEN TOGETHER FOR THREE WEEKS! The only one paying attention to me is the family Boxer who greedily eyes the big turkey leg I'm asent mindedly waving around as I relate this great tragedy. Though not in appearance, I still remind everyone if Eunice of "Mamas Family" in demeanor.

R69 I’m also the smug sister in law who’s always high on marijuana oil. That processed ingestible is magically ok.

I'm the poop in the toilet. Someone forget to flush....

I'm the deadly silent acrid turkey farts haunting the living room. The entire house will need an exorcism after the guests depart.

I am the mom that right after dinner demands that all her grown kids go up in the attic and pull all the Christmas decorations down, resulting in the fat slob brother putting his foot through the ceiling of the hallway and the others being relegated to sorting and untangling miles of ancient lights for both inside and outside.

I'm the text R77 got from today's hosts stating they tested positive for Covid and the dinner is cancelled, leaving R77 and other guests alone and too late to make other plans. Seriously. This happened.

That sucks, R77, but much better than getting a text tomorrow informing you that you were exposed to Covid after spending several hours in close contact with your hosts.

That is true.

'I thought I'd try a new recipe for the stuffing this year.'

"We're doing a vegan Thanksgiving this year."

“I told you I can’t eat gluten! Aunt Barb needs to get out of the bathroom! You fucking made me sick, ma!”

“Yes, the coffee is decaffeinated. How did you guess?”

"Are these rolls store bought?"

I'm the sad realization that no one keeps a plunger in their bathroom.

I’m the Native Americans.

I had a terrible Thanksgiving.

I am the Uncle who is singing all the songs to White Christmas in real-time and still getting the lyrics wrong. I sing along with it but in more of a hum.

I'm the mother-in-law to the lady of the house passively/aggressively talking shit from the time I walk through the front door, through dinner, and as I'm leaving. "Oh, Diane! I'd have come and helped you clean the house before everyone came. Why didn't you call me?" - "In all the years I cooked for Frank and the kids, I NEVER served store bought ANYTHING! Go on, Timmy. Eat your pie. Gammie will make you a real one when you come and stay!" - "Thanks for having me again, Diane! It's so nice to eat with women who have hearty appetites. I love it that you're so confident in yourself!"