Twas the morning of Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a... oh right. Elevated home in Louisiana. Nevermind. First order of business, fix the Internet. Second order of business, wrap presents. Third order of business, catch up on GT. Fourth order of business, fix the Internet again. So far, I have not been tempted to yell at my sister, so things are going well. That said, I believe that something that she said last night is the peak of irollny, so I must share. But first, the unexpected.
My family used to have the Christmas tradition of watching The Princess Bride followed by Monty Python's Spanish Inquisition sketch, until my sister declared us all to be weirdos in a tone that clearly denoted that she no longer believes this to be a compliment. Then she said that she doesn't want to watch the same thing all the time, so let's watch It's a Wonderful Life, which she'd been marathoning for days and which she'd already gotten me to watch twice in the previous 24 hours, although I didn't watch either in order. I vote we watch the good shows without her.
This cross stitch is my mom's present. In a display of awesomeness, Cute Boy Person signed up for Etsy and bought the pattern for me while standing in the aisle at Michael's to make sure that I got all the right colors and wouldn't have to come back, since Michael's was 20 minutes away from home and Hobby Lobby was only 10. I have all teh colors. Mom is rightfully thrilled and has declared it one of the best presents she ever got because it's so specific to us. Now I have 2 days to surreptitiously knit a scarf for her, which is complicated by lack of netflix.
Cute Boy Person's mom bought me games for Christmas. I feel adopted. Now I have to make her a Christmas present, which I have come up with a great idea for, but thanks to the wonky Internet, I can't get to her pintrest. Thanks Cute-Mom-In-Law-Ish for having a pintrest so I can check out your tastes.
Mom got me the shoes that I wanted and the Van Gogh Exploding TARDIS tights. My sister got me a canvas bag with a machine embroidered sugar skull with perfect shiny teeth and a headband that doesn't stay on my head in colors that I would come back to haunt people for if I were caught dead in them. As usual, she spent more money on her dog's presents than on mine.
I had to make garlic bread on Bunny Bread so that I could have garlic bread with my gumbo last night. The French bread that mom bought has milk, so to get around my dairy allergy, I had to use different bread, vegan butter stuff, and omit the Parmesan. My sister heard that my dairy allergy is back and said "what can you eat?" In what appears to be a family tradition, this was delivered as snark.
This is a question that I get a lot and I'll be honest, every time I find a new food allergy, that is what the voice in my head says. I typically get the question from people who see how much trouble my diet is and are amazed, a genuine (albeit irritating) question that I tend to answer with "dead cow. Lots and lots of dead cow." That said, my sister chose to be vegan for years, was the reason that the sausage was omitted from the turkey and sausage gumbo (she still opts to not eat pork), and has a daughter who is allergic to 3 of the big 8 (which is why we were having turkey gumbo instead of seafood gumbo).
Yet somehow, a new dietary requirement for me based on dairy giving me bone pain is a reason to be passive aggressive about my dietary requirements, as though I choose to not be allergic. Vegan by choice? Perfectly fine. Allergic to everything while her daughter? A terrible tragedy that we must all endure while making her feel as normal as possible. Allergic to everything while her sister who manages all accommodations herself without whining, in this case with vegan butter substitute? Geez, get over yourself. Also, who's making the green bean casserole because I'm not cooking.
She also has declared that she doesn't like gumbo very much. I suspect that my sister may secretly be a Yankee.
Is there a rule for the number of years that a gift is abandoned before it is up for grabs? Cause I bought my sister the Red Dwarf box set 4 years ago, Zombie Strippers, and Lost Skeleton of Cadavra 3 years ago and they're still unopened at mom's house. I will take my fucking Zombie Strippers and go home, Sister, fer srs. Even though I have my own copy, you ungrateful... person who used to believe that Carnosaur was the best movie ever.
And the tiki head kleenex box cover? That shit is quality and I paid to ship every one of those tiny plastic luchadors that you bought me that one year but you can't bring unwanted DVDs to the store to exchange them. It fucking sneezes kleenex. Come on. I believe it is customary to take unwanted gifts home, not leave them in the bedroom of the person who gave them to you for the next decade. The smeghead.
I'm gonna go eat more leftover gumbo just to spite her, something that I am clearly not particularly good at.