As you arrive at your grandmother’s house, all the familiar smells of the holidays fill the air.
Turkey, Stuffing and- Uh oh. what’s that? Your aunt Sally just walked in with a plate of deviled eggs, but much to her immediate dismay, your aunt Martha has already placed her deviled eggs on the table.
Just when you thought things would be calm, there’s about to be some passive aggressive drama popping off at grandmas.
It starts with a casual eye-roll, but soon tensions are at a near “who put marshmallows in the damn green beans” level.
Things haven’t been this rocky since your cousin showed up wearing a Snuggie, but you’re committed to getting out of this alive.
After 25 minutes of sitting in the living room, snacking on what you’re hoping is candy left over from Halloween and not last Easter, everyone is called to the table.
You go to sit near the end of the table when suddenly you realize there are place cards. Since when does grandma use place cards? Since you bought her that HP All-In-One. You did this to yourself.
It’s just then you notice that a cruel twist of fate has seated you between aunt Sally and aunt Martha. Like your niece Vera, this is not going to be pretty.
Everyone begins passing dishes. Sally’s eggs at one side of the table, Martha’s the other.
As if ripped straight from a Ben Stiller movie, both dishes end up in front of you at the same time. All eyes are tenuously fixated on you, awaiting your next move.
“Oh, no thanks, I think deviled eggs are disgusting.”
Both aunts, now feeling insulted, seem to have a new sense of camaraderie in their distaste for you and your comment.
Dinner goes off without incident and everyone retreats back to the living room.
You, sensing the inhospitable atmosphere, choose instead to make a hasty retreat.
You say goodbye to your grandma, because you’re not a monster, and quietly make your way towards the door.
As you exit, you can faintly hear your aunts talking to each other. “Who doesn’t like deviled eggs? I’ve always wondered about him.”
Empowered by your new found sense of purpose as the glue that holds your family together, you get in your car and pull away. The calm of knowing you won’t have to see them again for a year is a great comfort. One that you treasure like family.