Editor’s Note: This is a work of satire. It should not be taken seriously or applied literally.
As we ring in the end of the first semester, we can almost hear the sleigh bells ringing. It’s almost the most wonderful time of the year. We just have to make it through Thanksgiving first.
One of the hallmarks of this night of forced gratitude is family dinner — a feast where the turkey isn’t the only thing getting burned and the potatoes are almost as lumpy as your third cousin twice removed’s politics.
Whether you’re preparing to spend your night dodging prying questions, managing family feuds or just trying to escape Aunt Sue’s monstrosity of a “Jello salad,” this comprehensive guide to Thanksgiving dinner table talk is just for you.
As we all know, the most important part of Thanksgiving dinner is the annual Extended Family Debate Tournament. During this tournament, the winner earns bragging rights and the chance to take home whatever leftovers — other than the previously mentioned “Jello salad,” which will be sent to the Culinary Crimes Division of the Food and Drug Administration for further investigation — they desire in Tupperware that should be considered a family heirloom at this point.
Chinese military general and strategist Sun Tzu once said “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.” If you want to conquer and dominate your distant cousins in this valiant battle of political jargon and borderline villainous takes, you must place yourself in the shoes of the enemy.
Luckily, in the digital age, it becomes much easier to do just that. Just turn on your TV from the comfort of your own home, switch the channel to esteemed news source Fox News and begin to take notes, because any point that your extended family is bound to make will come straight out of the mouths of their supreme leaders Bret Baier and Jesse Watters.
Another part of Thanksgiving dinner to be wary of is the gravy-fueled gossip fest, moderated and facilitated by all of your aunts who should be watching their youngest children wreak havoc on grandma’s good china in the other room.
My best advice in this dire situation comes from English naturalist and biologist Charles Darwin: You must eat or be eaten.
In this survival of the fittest ecosystem, one must come prepared with many bullets in the chamber, lest the posse of wine-drunk auxiliary matriarchs ravages you with their many backhanded comments.
Interacting with this dangerous, carnivorous group is just like looking in a funhouse mirror: every insecurity that you have ever had will be amplified tenfold. But if you can’t handle the heat, stay out of the kitchen.
Speaking of the kitchen, you may feel encouraged to bring your own dish(es) to the family potluck. For the love of all things good and graceful on this Earth, don’t.
Many dishes are already spoken for, and it is best not to encroach on the territories of the family members who are already in charge of making the soggy green bean casserole, canned cranberry sauce and flavor-vacant stuffing.
If, after all of my warnings, you still feel inclined to bring something to the table, I recommend store-bought desserts, drinks or cups, plates and napkins.
After reading this advice, you may feel a little nervous, disgruntled or outright dreading the upcoming get-together. However, you shouldn’t worry. Family is family, after all. And if you still end up having a terrible time, at least you won’t have to see them all for another 365 days, right?
