The Christmas Invitation from Mama

I got this interesting bit of holiday spirit yesterday from my friend Ken ...

Dear Family,

I'm not dead yet, and Christmas is still important to me. If being in my Last Will and Testament is important to you, then you might consider being with me for my favorite holiday.

Dinner is at 2:00. Not 2:15. Not 2:05. Two. Arrive late and you get what's left over.

Last year, that moron Marshall fried a turkey in one of those contraptions and practically burned the deck off the house. This year, the only peanut oil used to make the meal will be from the secret scoop of peanut butter I add to the carrot soup.

Jonathan, your last new wife was an idiot. You don't arrive at someone's house on Thanksgiving needing to use the oven and the stove. Honest to God I thought you might have learned after two wives - date them longer and save us all the agony of another divorce.

Now, the house rules are slightly different this year because I have decided that 47% of you don't know how to take care of nice things. Paper plates and red Solo cups might be bad for the environment, but I'll be gone soon and that will be your problem to deal with.

House Rules:

The "no cans for kids" rule still exists. We are using two-liter bottles because your children still open a third can before finishing the first two. Parents can fill a child's cup when it is empty. All of the cups have names on them and I'll be paying close attention to refills.

Chloe, last year we were at Trudy's house and I looked the other way when your Jell-O salad showed up. This year, if Jell-O salad comes in the front door it will go right back out the back door with the garbage. Save yourself some time, honey. You've never been a good cook and you shouldn't bring something that wiggles more than you. Buy something from the bakery.

Grandmothers give grandchildren cookies and candy. That is a fact of life. Your children can eat healthy at your home. At my home, they can eat whatever they like as long as they finish it.

I cook with bacon and bacon grease. That's nothing new. Your being a vegetarian doesn't change the fact that stuffing without bacon is like egg salad without eggs. Even the green bean casserole has a little bacon grease in it. That's why it tastes so good. Not eating bacon is just not natural. And as far as being healthy, look at me - I've outlived almost everyone I know.

Salad at Thanksgiving is a waste of space.

I do not like cell phones. Leave them in the car.

I do not like video cameras. There will be 32 people here. I am sure you can capture lots of memories without the camera being pointed at me.

Being a mother means you have to actually pay attention to the kids. I have nice things and I don't put them away just because company is coming over. Mary, watch your kids and I'll watch my things.

Rhonda, a cat that requires a shot twice a day is a cat that has lived too many lives. I think staying home to care for the cat is your way of letting me know that I have lived too many lives too. I can live with that. Can you?

Words mean things. I say what I mean. Let me repeat: "You don't need to bring anything" means "you don't need to bring anything." And if I did tell you to bring something, bring it in the quantity I said. Really. This doesn't have to be difficult.

Dominos and cards are better than anything that requires a battery or an on/off switch. That was true when you were kids and it's true now that you have kids.

Showing up for Thanksgiving guarantees presents at Christmas. Not showing up guarantees a card that may or may not be signed.

The election is over so I'll watch what I say and you will do the same. If we all stick to that, we'll have a good time. If not, I'll still have a good time but it will be at your expense.

In memory of your Grandfather, the back fridge will be filled with beer. Drink until it is gone. I prefer wine anyway. But one from each family needs to be the designated driver. I really mean it.

Mama

I think this may sum up Agnes and I in a few years, except for the "no salad" part ... there's no way Agnes will ever serve a major (or even a minor) meal without a salad with her homemade dressing. If you've been here for dinner, you know that.

Twelve more days until Christmas. Good luck. I'm headed back to the dentist this morning for Part 2 of my Pre-Holiday Drilling and Blasting Extravaganza, so I'm likely to be a mite grouchy this afternoon. It's not personal. Just leave me alone and come back tomorrow, when I stop drooling.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo