15 Steps To Prepare For Your In-Laws This Thanksgiving
Let’s review how you got into this mess of hosting for the holidays. You were sipping sparkling riesling back in July. It was your husband’s family’s annual Fourth of July BBQ. You were on your third glass of wine when you announced, “I’d love to have everyone at our house this Thanksgiving!”
Your mother-in-law insisted that you didn’t need to. But, you were feelin’ great from all of the wine, and the heat—ohh, that summer heat will sneak up on ya. So you politely told her, “It’s no big deal I want to do it. It will be fun. I got this.”
Good job ya dumbass. Now look atcha. Just look atcha. You’re screwed.
You get to serve a bunch of ungrateful fuckers (aka your in-laws and their extended family) to a nice dinner, dessert and coffee. And the best part is, drum roll please, the in-laws are staying at your house for a week.
Such a lucky duck (read: stupid moron) you are!
Don’t freak out yet, though. I got you covered.
It’s gonna be high stress for sure—turkeys and short tempers—which is why I wrote this prep list for you. You can thank me later. I take payment in booze and turkey sandwiches.
Back to the list. It contains important information on how to be adequately prepared for a week in hell. Oh, and the list also includes helpful tips on how to prevent yourself from bitch-slapping your MIL (or any other family member whom you find utterly annoying).
So bottoms-up, sweetie, you got this!
Seriously, what are you waiting for? Grab a glass, get to pourin’ and lets review.
1. Take care of the baseboards. They are the forgotten, neglected crevices of your home. Clean them—either clean them yourself, get your kids to clean them, or tell your housekeeper.
2. Dust the top of your refrigerator. I can see the 2-inch tall mountain of dust from here. Seriously, your MIL will totally swipe her finger up there. It’s stupid, I know. But she will. So dust it. Better yet, make your husband do it.
3. Have the booze stash ready. Not for the rellies. For you. They can bring their own damn booze. Note to self: When sending out Thanksgiving Evites to the ungrateful fuckers, put BYOB.
4. Place the photographs of your MIL and the grandkids in frames and out on full display. Hint: Those dusty pictures are up in the attic conveniently located next to the Christmas decorations.
5. Dig out ugly scarf and earrings (that still have the tags on them) your husband’s aunt bought you for Christmas last year. Remember? You put them on the top shelf in your closet next to the pile of pre-baby clothes that will never fit you again.
6. Clear the history and cookies on your computer. You don’t want your MIL to be using your computer and see that you searched “10 Ways to Ghost Your MIL.”
7. Pull out the cookware (that’s still in boxes) and cookbooks your husband’s grammy bought you to “help you cook more.”
8. Fix the lock on your bedroom door. You don’t need any intruders.
9. Box up sex toys—just in case you get snoopers.
10. Drugs: This includes prescription mood-altering drugs and painkillers (the oldsters might steal them) and the marijuana (if they’re cool snoopers, they’ll totally swipe your bud). Well, and it’d be really awkward if they accidentally stumbled upon your weed stash in the medicine cabinet.
11. You know that manners and etiquette lesson you meant to have with the kids? Now would be the time to review or have that lesson in the first place.
12. Give Cards Against Humanity to the neighbor to borrow. And all of the expansions.
13. Order the Turkey. Like, order the kind from Boston Market that comes prepared. Have it in the oven when they all arrive and take all of the credit. You might wanna order some sides while you’re at it.
14. Pull out a Bible or religious book of choice, and pray for yourself. If prayer isn’t your thing, go to yoga. Get yo mind right.
15. Burn all articles, journal entries or Voodoo dolls that have anything to do with your in-laws. (I will bring mine over tomorrow so we can do this together).
Who am I spending the holiday with this year, you ask? Strangers. Serving food to homeless people, it brings me joy. I learned my lesson last year dear.
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