It’s that time of the year again—the time when you get together with family members that you didn’t even know existed, binge-eat on heavenly, homemade food, ultimately gain five pounds and diet for the next three months, and without fail, disappoint all your family within a hour.
Everyone arrives for the big celebration of giving thanks (but really, everyone is just there for the food). Everyone is sitting at a big table in their respective seats, and you are finally considered an adult and get to sit at the adult table. You are moving up in the world. Kudos, kid.
As everyone is passing around the cheesy potatoes, the stuffing, the cranberry stuff, and that perfectly cooked turkey, it seems like nothing could go wrong. Wishful thinking, you fool. As you are enjoying your turkey in peace, your uncle, who you only see once a year, bombards you with the question.
“What is your major?” No! Not again. You thought that this year would be different and that no one would ask questions, but of course they did. Strap yourself in—it’s going to be a long dinner.
Everyone else partakes in the conversation by asking questions like, “how are your grades?” “do you have a job?” “what clubs are you involved in?”
When your answers consist of “my grades could be better,” “no, I don’t have a job,” and “does going to all the Badger football games count as being involved?” you should already know you’re about to feel your family’s judging eyes for the remainder of the meal. Additionally, how many times did you find yourself on the Dean’s List while you were you in while in college, you douche canoes? NONE. THE ANSWER IS PROBABLY NONE TIMES.
As if that isn’t bad enough, there is always that one cousin your age that when asked the same questions, seem to have their entire life figured out. “I am on the Deans List,” “I work for the chemical engineering department 12 hours a week,” “I am in a volunteering club where we raise money for children, a chemical engineering club, and a math elite club just for fun,” and “what is sex, I abstain from that completely.” You knew you should have stayed in Madison and had frozen chicken for Thanksgiving instead. Anything would be better than this public humiliation.
After hearing from the golden cousin, your Aunt Worthless—or whatever that bitch’s name is—asks you “do you have a significant other?” thinking that the answer is obviously yes. Since last year… and the year before that… and the year before that still, it was no, they hope the answer magically changed and you stopped looking like an undesirable loser.
Nope, you’re still a failure—because you are so single it hurts. And of course the golden cousin invited their significant other to Thanksgiving dinner, so they don’t even get asked the question because the answer is obvious. Then blunt grandma blurts out, “honey you aren’t getting any younger, and your parents want to have some grandchildren.”
Thanks grandma. Thanks for that. But even still, you don’t lose hope. You’re onto that 11-year-old cousin of yours—give it time, and your family will be grilling him about what it’s like to come out as gay, completely dismissing you of any discussion about your love life.
You continue to shove food in your face, not even because you want to at this point. You were full about twenty minutes ago, but you don’t want to have to answer any more questions so you keep shoveling it in. Ultimately you are just one huge disappointment to everyone. Your family assumes you have no plans for the future, and that you will die alone. Don’t you just love Thanksgiving?
We do. Because no matter how much your family sucks, there’s still free wine, bitches!