Wallace West
Legend has it that the first Thanksgiving went pretty well. But I think we can all agree it’s been downhill since then. Political arguments, family feuds, unevenly cooked turkey…there must be a better excuse for a federal holiday in November, right?
I’m here to tell you that, with a bit of creative problem-solving, it doesn’t have to be that bad. Before you say “no thanks” to Thanksgiving 2017, study this handy Survival Guide. It will get you through the stressful holiday weekend and, with sugarplums substituted for pumpkin pie, can even work for Christmas.
—Tell All
Should I come out to my parents over Thanksgiving?
Conventional wisdom suggests that you shouldn’t, since Thanksgiving is a charged day even without a bombshell revelation. But the timing can work in your favor depending on where your family falls on the spectrum of repressed-to-rude.
Are your relatives on the repressed end? Do your Thanksgiving dinners recall a scene from Ordinary People, where everyone is polite on the surface but furiously resentful inside? If so, try expressing “Mom, Dad, I’m gay” with no words and only a slight lifting of one eyebrow. This should be no trouble given the passive-aggressive techniques you’ve learned in your family.
Mom and Dad will likely respond with an almost imperceptible twitching around the mouth. And no more will be said of it until Christmas, by which time your parents may have silently made their peace with your sexual preference.
If your relatives are on the rude end (and I am much better versed in this scenario), you’ve got it made. While your parents insult fellow dinner guests through mouthfuls of mashed potatoes, scream as loudly as you can: “JUST SHUT UP BECAUSE I’M GAY!” Mom and Dad will scream back “YOU SHUT UP!” and return to their insults.
When the Thanksgiving weekend is over, you will return to work or college. And it won’t be until early December when your parents stop in their tracks and mutter, “Wait. What?” True, they will likely begin shouting at this point, but it’s possible they’ll get it out of their systems by the time you return for Christmas.
Wallace West
Some of the people at our Thanksgiving celebration are passionate conservatives who love Donald Trump, while others are passionate liberals who love Hillary Clinton. I have my own passionate political views but would rather avoid conflict in favor of a peaceful gathering of family and friends. Is there any way for me to keep things under control, given that these ideological opponents are itching for a fight?
How about appealing to everyone’s sense of decency? At the start of the meal, gently tap a spoon against a glass and say something like this: “Look, I know we disagree about certain issues, but we’re all fellow citizens and fellow human beings. If we must talk about politics, let’s show respect for one another. Let’s stick to facts and rational arguments rather than getting emotional and launching hurtful personal attacks. And most important of all, let’s do it in the spirit of good will that’s appropriate for Thanksgiving.”
KIDDING! This is the modern-day United States, where appealing to a sense of decency will get you torn to bits. If it’s peace you’re after, I recommend a course of sneakiness and misdirection.
In the best-case scenario, you can keep things under control by artfully changing the subject. When the Trump lovers bring up Hillary’s emails, blurt out that you just upgraded to Outlook 2016 and don’t understand the new calendar features. Combatants on both sides will immediately begin explaining (and explaining) how to enter an event, and you will have preserved the peace — at least for the next 10 minutes. Continue changing subjects in this manner for the next couple hours and you can declare victory.
If that stops working, however, you’ll need more dramatic methods. When the Hillary lovers bring up Trump’s collusion with Russia, pretend that you’re choking on a candied yam. If the Trump lovers are too worked up to notice, countering that Hillary colluded with Putin more than Trump ever did, you should fall to the floor and gurgle loudly until both sides are shamed into performing the Heimlich maneuver on you.
What if none of these strategies is working? Then you have no choice but to scream at the top of your lungs: “JUST SHUT UP BECAUSE I’M GAY!”
Wallace West
I’m bringing my girlfriend home for Thanksgiving to meet my family for the first time. We’re very serious about each other, and both of us are concerned that she make a good impression. The problem is that she’s a vegan, which will be off-putting for my traditional parents. We’ll get around to telling them eventually, but I don’t want her special diet to be a distraction during this initial visit. How can we get her through a turkey-centered meal where even the side dishes will be smothered in gravy and butter?
If your parents can’t act like adults in response to your girlfriend’s dietary needs, then you’ll have to act like a child. In other words, you and your girlfriend will have to be as sneaky as most children, who are practiced in the art of avoiding food they don’t like.
Step one: Tell your parents your girlfriend is getting over a stomach flu and can’t eat a whole lot. This will prevent too much turkey and stuffing from appearing on her plate.
Step two: Have your girlfriend inconspicuously drop some of the food onto her lap. If your family has a dog, problem solved. If not, she can scoop the food into a plastic bag concealed in her pocket. Any awkward writhing motions will be chalked up to the stomach flu.
Step three: Have your girlfriend swish around the remaining food on her plate to make your parents think she ate some of it. As a former 6-year-old, you know the drill.
Step four: Go to your room, lock the door, and unpack the tofurkey hidden in your suitcase. Bon appétit.
I’m bringing a gender-fluid friend home for Thanksgiving who prefers to be referred to by the pronoun “they” rather than “he” or “she.” I don’t want to set off my crazy conservative relatives by making a big deal of it, because they will almost surely say something that hurts my friend’s feelings. On the other hand, I don’t want to hurt my friend’s feelings myself by failing to address the issue with my family and acting like there’s something shameful about “they.” How should I proceed?
In an ideal world, you would treat your relatives like grownups, explaining your friend’s preference and expecting everyone to act in a civilized manner. But this isn’t an ideal world; it’s Thanksgiving. If you’d rather eat the turkey, avoid a fight, and get the hell out of there, all while sparing your friend’s feelings, it will require some linguistic gymnastics.
Luckily, your relatives will have no reason to use “he” or “she” at the table as they address your friend directly. But you won’t have that luxury. People will ask how you two met or what you plan to do together for the rest of the holiday weekend, and it will be very difficult to construct sentences without letting slip a “they” or “them” in regard to your friend. So your best move is to avoid pronouns altogether.
Use your friend’s proper name in every instance, no matter how weird it sounds. To cover your tracks, make it seem like that’s merely a personal quirk of yours by avoiding pronouns about anything throughout the course of the meal. For example: “Why did I take such a big scoop of green beans, Uncle Dan? Well, I took such a big scoop of green beans because I love green beans and green beans are so healthy. Would you like me to pass the green beans?”
True, everyone will think you’re a fool. And you are one, but for a good cause.
Ever since I was little, I’ve hated what happens after Thanksgiving dinner in my family: Everyone retires to the living room to mindlessly watch football. I was always the only one who didn’t take part, going off to another room to read a novel. I felt especially bad about this yearly ritual after I moved away from home and returned for the holiday. After all, Thanksgiving is a rare chance to spend quality time with my relatives; instead, they choose to spend quality time with the Packers. They even behaved this way last year when I came home with my 1-year-old daughter. You’d think they would have wanted to get to know her a little bit, but I guess football is more important. So once again I retired to the other room, this time with a board book to read to my toddler. Part of me feels guilty about staying out of the living room, and another part of me still wants to try getting my relatives interested in my now 2-year-old daughter. What approach should I take this Thanksgiving?
I would give your family one more chance. Buy your daughter a little green-and-gold Aaron Rodgers jersey and teach her to throw a Nerf football. After Thanksgiving dinner, when everyone sits down for the game, usher her up to the TV and instruct her to throw the football into the group while she shouts “Touchdown!” Or, as she’s more likely to pronounce it, “Tut-dowd!”
If your family members ignore this irresistibly cute spectacle, letting the football bounce off their heads while keeping their eyes glued to the screen, you’ll have your answer: They aren’t human. Better to spend your time in the other room, guilt-free, with the fictional characters.
I always enjoy coming home to have Thanksgiving dinner with my family, but I never enjoy the day after: Black Friday. I’m no fan of shopping even under normal circumstances, so I especially hate that hellish holiday experience, wading through the discount-crazed mobs with my mom and sisters. The thing is, I do cherish spending time with them during the Thanksgiving weekend. If my mom and sisters are going to the malls, I’m going with them — I just wish I could convince them to stay home with me for tea and conversation instead.
There’s a solution, but it will cost you. Before you go home this year, buy extravagant presents for your mom and your sisters. Accept their hugs and kisses on Thursday when they open the presents, and smile benignly when they thank you for your unexpected generosity.
The next day, when your mom and sisters suggest a trip to the malls, tell them that you spent all your money on their presents and have nothing left for shopping on Black Friday. At this point, they will be honor-bound to call off the shopping spree and may even feel guilty for suggesting it in the first place. Cue tea and conversation.
Wallace West
I hate big family gatherings, and it’s especially hard on me to do two major holidays in a row — Thanksgiving then Christmas. I’d love to skip Thanksgiving this year but don’t want to hurt my parents’ feelings. Can you think of a good excuse?
Of course. Simply don’t show up on Nov. 23, then waltz in on Dec. 25 and exclaim, “Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!”
When your parents inform you that it’s Christmas, not Thanksgiving, make a big show of calling up Outlook 2016 on your cellphone. Peer at the calendar function and sigh, “Can anybody explain how to enter an event on this damn thing?”
Wallace West
I’m meeting my boyfriend’s parents for the first time at their Thanksgiving celebration. But I’m nervous because they’re extremely religious and I’m not. In fact, I know nothing about the Bible, have never been to church, and don’t spend time with religious people. I want my boyfriend’s parents to like me but am not sure how to behave.
There are several ways to go, depending on how much effort you want to put in.
One easy trick is to feign solemn respect during any religious rituals, such as grace before a meal. Bow your head, close your eyes and remain very still. Most important of all, do not — I repeat, do not — peek before the prayer is over.
It would also be easy to say “God bless you” whenever anyone sneezes. You will sound faintly religious without overdoing it.
If you want to overdo it, try liberally sprinkling your conversation with the phrase “Thus saith the Lord!” The only danger there is that your boyfriend’s parents might be so impressed by your deep faith that they ask you to say grace at the next meal.
