I’m going to vent here so I can get it out of my system and then resume an appropriate level of adulting. Warning: extreme pettiness ahead.
Traditionally, Christmas Eve is the BIG night for me. Get together with all the extended family on my side, tons of food, lots of merriment — it’s awesome. But every other year, we do it up with Mr. Nom’s parents down South. Which is less awesome, but also lovely in its own way. Except, this year, his parents decided they are taking a cruise on Christmas instead of spending it with us heathens. Which is actually a pretty baller move and I’m happy for them even if it is somewhat intended as a slight to us (apparently, we take the “Christ” out of my FiL’s Christmas *eyeroll*).
I’m going to be stuck entertaining my BiL and his sons on Christmas Eve.
Beginning at noon.
While they are fine people, they are... how do I put this... they’re... not very fun. They’re, well, a 40 y.o. bachelor and his two teen sons. It would be one thing if his GF was accompanying him but, alas, she’ll already be at her folks’.
Our dinner reservations aren’t until 6:00. We specifically made dinner reservations because after hosting 21
people for Thanksgiving, we were not interested in having to clean and
cook for anyone again so soon. Don’t even get me started on the pissy texting exchange between my BiL and Mr. Nom that precipitated making those dinner reservations but suffice it to say, my BiL is an entitled idiot sometimes.
And I realize I’m sounding like a snippy bitch right now, but not one of them ever lifts a finger without first having to be asked. And even then, we are talking bare fucking minimum on their part. (Thanks, guys for carrying the folding chairs downstairs and sitting them *next* to the room they’re stored in after Thanksgiving! It was literally just another 5 feet and you knew damn well where they went, but I’m the asshole if I point that out, right? I also enjoyed stripping the guest beds you slept in and washing all the linens! By myself! Like always!)
My ideal Christmas Eve does *not* include dying of boredom while they sit on my sofa and play video games for hours on end, initiate zero conversation with me unless it’s about anime and generally make a mess. And I cannot overstate how messy they are even if all they’re doing is sitting still. I guarantee you the living room will be hella dishevelled and all manner of shit tracked in just from that. It is fucking amazing how they manage to pull this off. I will find empty soda cans all over the house for days. I swear, if I didn’t know how thoughtless they just naturally are, I would have to assume they do it just to fuck with me. Have you ever found a cup with an inch of flat Sprite growing mold on a shelf in your office a week after Thanksgiving?
So. Looking forward to finding my own thing to do with Toddler Nom for half of Christmas Eve. Good times.
And you know what the real kick-in-the-ass is?
It was my idea.
Yup. All me. Mr. Nom doesn’t really go out of his way to try and initiate contact with his brother anymore b/c he’s *always* the one to do it. But I was all, “Hey, with your parents out of town, we can get together with BiL and his sons. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Live web feed of me right now: