One of the things I have noticed as a divorced woman, are the hassle free Christmases. Granted I've only had one since my divorce but since I got married at Christmas, it's never going to be a bowl of cherries and this is MY blog and I'll cry if I want to!
I would like to share my experiences of 2 very different Yuletide fayres. However, before doing so, you may want to read my earlier post 'Meeting The Families' to get an understanding of the subtle differences between the two factions...
Christmas at my house is as follows (please note it was even more insane when my mental dad was alive):
0700: Helen wakes up cos mum has coughed loudly and flushed the toilet 46 times
0730: Helen has had her 3rd cup of coffee looking like a ming after a drunken Christmas Eve with her best mates in the pub (that was mentioned in 'Meeting The Families')
0800: Helen has secretly opened her first selection box and is sick of Twirls
0900: Sister Catherine arrives (with Stewart in tow as per the last million years)
0905: Sibling fight
0906: Mum slaps us both and reminds us that some children are starving and we should be thankful
0907: Helen and Catherine take the piss out of mum behind her back and snigger like children
0930: Eat bacon rolls and throw presents to each other
1000: Presents are open, toys are played with and broken, spines on books are cracked and toys with batteries are left til Boxing Day after realising that no-one has bought batteries
1100: second selection box scoffed with mum shouting that 'dinner won't be long, don't go mad with sweets'
1400: Dinner is FINALLY ready (we all secretly wish we hadn't eaten so much chocolate but we crack on anyway)
1430: Second helpings of dinner whilst laughing at the shit cracker jokes, making up our own better ones and laughing at the burping and farting
1500: Queens speech - mum watches this as Helen and Catherine fight and 'stack' the dishwasher
1530: Mum restacks the dishwasher
1600: Mum asks if anyone needs anything to eat
1600:01: we throw sweets at mum and vomit a little bit in our mouths...which makes way for another half of Toblerone
1630: Mum falls asleep, Helen and Catherine fight/giggle/swear/punch each other etc etc etc etc
1700: Catherine and Stewart 'escape' to Stewarts mums to drink alcohol
1705: Helen stays awake and watches shite on telly whilst eating Mum's selection box
2200: Helen wakes up. Helen wakes up Mum.
2205: Mum asks if the doors are locked
2205:01 Helen says 'not since the mad axeman popped in'
2205:02 Mum slaps Helen and both go to bed
Rewind to my last Christmas, 2008, with hubby and it was a very different tale.
I must stress, his family are not mad or unkind (hahahaha). They are just not MY family! They are slightly self righteous and holier than thou, but hey, they go to church 6 times a week so they need an outlet!
I digress:
Christmas at hubbys parents was as follows:
0900: Rise and read scripture to each other
0930: Shower and praise God for the morning
1000: Meet the rest of the family in the communal area and toast the coming of the morn with bucks fizz and smoked salmon
1100: Fill dates with Philadelphia and top with half a grape so the 900 year old aunt has something to throw around her false teeth til the turkey is ready
1130: Make the mulled wine from scratch (Tesco sell it in bottles, is there any need for this faff?) have you ever tried pissing about with cloves and cinnamon with a Christmas Eve hangover?
1200: Piss about soaking carrots in honey pretending to be happy when secretly you're pissed off that you haven't even sniffed a pressie.
1230: Help the old folk up the steps and pour them mulled wine whilst eyeing up the presents
1300: Help in the kitchen whilst handing round the pre made mulled wine and dates with cheese delicacies
1330: Dinner is served (by me)
1331: Everyone says their own version of 'grace' except me cos I couldn't give a fishes tit
1345: Eat cold dinner which has only a smidgeon of gravy which does not go down well with me AT ALL!
1415: Help clear up the dinner plates of 14 fecking people
1500: Watch The Queen whilst being told to be quiet and stop whining about the presents whilst our Monarch is speaking to the nation
1530: Wish I was in the pub
1531: Start playing charades. Sober.
1600: Lose the will and go upstairs 'to the toilet'
1630: Husband comes to check on me in case I have a 'funny tummy'. Fuck off I'm not 8!
1730: Folk start to piss off home
1800: All is quiet, now presents are swapped. The novelty has already worn off!
1830: Sit watching telly, not farting or burping
2100: Go to bed and give hubby a half hearted Christmas shag, whilst thinking about Johnny Depp, and hoping he doesn't press too hard on my belly.
Thursday, 9 September 2010
Wednesday, 8 September 2010
Meeting The Families - One Weekend!
Saturday, Summer 2005
Meeting my future in-laws
The venue: posh hotel in posh Fife place
The reason: some old birds 80th birthday
Dress code: posh
We arrived at the hotel and I instantly needed a pee - posh places do that to me! I had already met his parents but not the rest of the family so this was to be a hand sweating, arse clenching, head fuck of a day! I also knew that at least 2 of them would be infirm and/or in wheelchairs - this was okay cos I'm good with disabled people for some unknown bizarre reason (probably cos of my Dad).
So, I had a pee and proceeded to be introduced to the most odd looking people I've ever seen in one place. All very nice in their own way, but all together they looked like an Amish community had mated with the old man that used to live in the woods.
Lunch was served in a posh room with long tables and I've never seen so much cutlery in my life (go from the outside and work your way in, came my dads voice in my head). It soon became clear that I used the fish knife to eat my chicken. There was much chortling at my faux pas. WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A FUCKING FISH KNIFE FOR FISH?
There were speeches! Speeches! I ask you, for the love of Jehovah! Someone did a poem. Someone else quoted some Noah story from the Bible which got a clap (I joined in, nodding like a loon but had no idea what was going on).
Lunch was finished, cutlery drama over and after muchos vino, the old disabled folks were loving me - I asked them about the war and their swollen legs and scabby bodies. I was doing well.
That was about it really. The rest of the day was a bit of a haze. There were some photos and I think I fell asleep in the car on the way home.
****
Sunday, Summer 2005 (the day after yesterday)
Him meeting his future in-laws
The venue: pub across the road
The reason: cos it was close to my mums house
Dress code: clothes
We arrived at my mums house to be greeted by my sister (who had actually arrived early) saying 'alright bawbag, how's you?' I had to explain what a bawbag was.
He had met my mum already and had been on his best behaviour. Did he have any other type...?
We arrived at the pub (that I used to work in, get drunk in and get chucked out of, from the age of 18 - 25) and sat at our table.
There were people in there I'd known for years and I tried my best not to make eye contact in the hope of trying to avoid the 'all right Doos, who be this then', 'hey ya tart you still owe me a tenner', 'oi H, it's your round' type of comments and questions.
We sat at a table in the 'conservatory' and instantly my sister and her other half commented on the ginormous woman at the table across the way, suggesting that she may have been better ordering a salad and that perhaps desserts should be banned.
Our food finally arrived and all I can say is, in comparison to the sedate affair the day before, this could only resemble what I would assume a chimps tea party would look like. There was burping, food chucking, drink spilling, swearing, dodgy jokes, inane banter and general hilarity at every small thing. My sister has the sort of laugh that, even if you were on your death bed dying from laughing disease, you'd hear it and laugh! Most people were laughing with us by the end but had no idea why!
Our table was a mess, we used soup spoons to dig about in our fajitas, dessert spoons to stir our coffees and the place had never even heard of a fish knife - they thought I said fish wife when I asked the question!
So, as you can see, there were slight differences in our approach to life.
I know which one I prefer...
Fish knife? Fuck off!
Meeting my future in-laws
The venue: posh hotel in posh Fife place
The reason: some old birds 80th birthday
Dress code: posh
We arrived at the hotel and I instantly needed a pee - posh places do that to me! I had already met his parents but not the rest of the family so this was to be a hand sweating, arse clenching, head fuck of a day! I also knew that at least 2 of them would be infirm and/or in wheelchairs - this was okay cos I'm good with disabled people for some unknown bizarre reason (probably cos of my Dad).
So, I had a pee and proceeded to be introduced to the most odd looking people I've ever seen in one place. All very nice in their own way, but all together they looked like an Amish community had mated with the old man that used to live in the woods.
Lunch was served in a posh room with long tables and I've never seen so much cutlery in my life (go from the outside and work your way in, came my dads voice in my head). It soon became clear that I used the fish knife to eat my chicken. There was much chortling at my faux pas. WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A FUCKING FISH KNIFE FOR FISH?
There were speeches! Speeches! I ask you, for the love of Jehovah! Someone did a poem. Someone else quoted some Noah story from the Bible which got a clap (I joined in, nodding like a loon but had no idea what was going on).
Lunch was finished, cutlery drama over and after muchos vino, the old disabled folks were loving me - I asked them about the war and their swollen legs and scabby bodies. I was doing well.
That was about it really. The rest of the day was a bit of a haze. There were some photos and I think I fell asleep in the car on the way home.
****
Sunday, Summer 2005 (the day after yesterday)
Him meeting his future in-laws
The venue: pub across the road
The reason: cos it was close to my mums house
Dress code: clothes
We arrived at my mums house to be greeted by my sister (who had actually arrived early) saying 'alright bawbag, how's you?' I had to explain what a bawbag was.
He had met my mum already and had been on his best behaviour. Did he have any other type...?
We arrived at the pub (that I used to work in, get drunk in and get chucked out of, from the age of 18 - 25) and sat at our table.
There were people in there I'd known for years and I tried my best not to make eye contact in the hope of trying to avoid the 'all right Doos, who be this then', 'hey ya tart you still owe me a tenner', 'oi H, it's your round' type of comments and questions.
We sat at a table in the 'conservatory' and instantly my sister and her other half commented on the ginormous woman at the table across the way, suggesting that she may have been better ordering a salad and that perhaps desserts should be banned.
Our food finally arrived and all I can say is, in comparison to the sedate affair the day before, this could only resemble what I would assume a chimps tea party would look like. There was burping, food chucking, drink spilling, swearing, dodgy jokes, inane banter and general hilarity at every small thing. My sister has the sort of laugh that, even if you were on your death bed dying from laughing disease, you'd hear it and laugh! Most people were laughing with us by the end but had no idea why!
Our table was a mess, we used soup spoons to dig about in our fajitas, dessert spoons to stir our coffees and the place had never even heard of a fish knife - they thought I said fish wife when I asked the question!
So, as you can see, there were slight differences in our approach to life.
I know which one I prefer...
Fish knife? Fuck off!
Amazing Similarities, All In A Name!
America: A woman wants a particular man. However, man has wife. Woman decides man is hers. Woman shoots wife in the head. Woman doesn't keep man and goes to jail. Wife survives.
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