Oh boy |
Which is to say, add "My aunt crying because her sons are drinking in the garage even though they have both been hospitalized for issues related to alcoholism and are likely to add to the body cousin body count in the coming year," to my bingo card, along with "how am I the most functional person in this group." |
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Most of these are spot on, but so sorry to read the one about reasons cousins have died. Very sad.
On a lighter note... Aunt Lisa and Aunt Lala have to one up eachother. it's their thing. Grandpa turns off his hearing aide again and pretends it's not working so he doesn't have to hear grandma crtiicize him. (They have both passed, but we always looked forward to that one and secretly cheered Grandpa on). Mom tells us yet again why her neighbor's kids, her nieces and nephews, etc are all better than we are. She doesn't know we know the inside scoop and we no longer care. It's just a game she must play-must compare us unfavorably to all. My favorite was when one of the people we should be more like was...arrested. That shut her up for a while. Everyone insists Uncle Joe is sharp as a tack. He is not. He clearly need a cognitive evaluation. No, Uncle Harlow is not drunk. He barely drinks. |
Same here. I think that’s only a square on the sanctimonious mommy bingo card. |
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BIL arrives with the ingredients for his "special" appetizer/side dish/dessert and expects to take over the entire kitchen to prepare/cook it
Different, divorced BIL's 19 y/o daughter brings pot to the party and gets all the teens high SIL remembers two or three forgotten (and unnecessary) side dishes and tries madly to cook them at the last minute (think three stacked, teetering bowls of veggies steaming in the microwave) Frugal uncle arrives late, armed with something he bought at a gas station convenience store as his contribution -- one year it was a box of stuffing mix, one year it was those mystery meat pies that roll around under the heat lamp |
OMG this brings back childhood memories. My mom had endless time to pamper herself (had a maid, no job, etc) and my dad made a good living. Our neighborhood had a yearly holiday cookie exchange where the rule was it had to be baked. Every year she showed up with generic Oreos she bought on sale even a year prior that was about to expire and then she filled up her plate with everyone's beautiful creations. She would then complain that her pseudo-oreos were not touched. |
OMG! An older IL said this exact thing to me at Thanksgiving! I'm Jewish and she knows it. All the ILs know it! |