Jennifer: Holiday Hatred

What’s Not To Love about the holidays?

Dealing with novices or random’s at the grocery store.  It’s the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and there is grandma, pushing her shopping cart in a zig zag pattern down aisle five.  You know grandma isn’t cooking the family and it’s confirmed when you look in her cart and there is some pre-packaged swiss and a couple cans of off-brand soda. 

Really?  Get the hell out of here!

The only thing worse than dealing with the person who doesn’t need to be at the store is dealing with someone’s clueless husband. 

This is the guy that the annoyed wife sent out of the house under the guise that she needed something from the store. And he’s there looking for something completely ridiculous and non-essential to the meal. Wifey knows that she will get in a full two hours of alone time while he causes a gridlock in search of the “stuffed olives in a jar with a red lid and Spanish label.  Not the blue label with orange letters, but the orange label with blue letters.”

Turkey parts.  Wrestling a 26 lb. turkey is quite challenging, but it seems to get a little easier every year. 

What never gets any easier is pulling turkey parts out of turkey orifices. 

There is something perverted about the way turkeys are packaged.  Extra parts should be packaged in a little baggy.  I hate foraging for parts which are inserted in both ends of the turkey.  Last year I found 2 necks inside my turkey’s cavity adding insult to injury.

Creating a table-scape that makes it look like you feed 12 people every day.  Salad plates sub for bread plates, white/red wine glass rules go out the door.  Mixed napkins colors make it more festive…or at least that’s what you tell them.

Lethargic guests suck.  Hey, I have been up since 7 a.m. preparing the meal you just wolfed down in 10 minutes.  At least have enough respect to be a good guest and make conversation, participate in a board game or just keep your eye’s open. 

No way you are more tired than me!

Clean-up.  This is when two dishwashers would be a dream.  But, instead you go through 4 dishwasher loads as the smell of greasy turkey carcass permeates the air. Personally, scraping plates takes me back to my college waitress days.  I really appreciate people that clean their plates and don’t leave me with their disgusting mess.

Let’s face it, everyone loves leftovers. And I’m to send them along.  However, it should be a rule that you have to bring your own Tupperware.  No matter what your guests say, you’ll never see your storage containers again!