Dear Family,
I’ve been reading about how playing games together can promote a sense of love among family members. Since we all know this is B.S., I’d like to invite you to my place so we can bond over our disagreement on the rules.
I will spend 10 days cleaning the house because I like to give off the air of having my shit together, unlike the rest of you. And I’ll order pizza because I hate cooking for myself, so why would I cook for all of you?
Much to the chagrin of my children, I’ll channel rage, full of passive annoyance that I volunteered to host.
Please don’t tell me what food intolerances you have. I am not interested. I will make sure the bathroom is well stocked with toilet paper in case any “reactions” occur.
While I appreciate you asking what you can bring, please respect my boundaries and don’t bring a salad made with the kale that has been in your fridge for the past two months. If you choose to disregard the boundaries I created in my head but didn’t tell you about, please practice self-control and only bring enough food for the ten people attending. We do not need enough food for 500 people and their procreating bunnies.
When we sit down to play the game, please remember that we play this game every single time we are together. It is not necessary to google the instructions and read them verbatim, while everyone shares their personal interpretations of the rules.
It is not appropriate to question every single infraction that you believe is being broken. Nor is it appropriate to ask a player to provide a summary of every single move they made throughout the game because you believe they are intentionally cheating. I have installed security cameras throughout the room, so we can review footage if anyone provides reasonable cause for suspicion.
That said, I don’t give a flying fuck if Grandpa is cheating. Remember, we are here to bond. Let’s get this game over with!
As we sit silently, waiting for Mom to remember that it is her turn, please bring up any childhood trauma you’d like to process as a group. Game night is also a wonderful time for interventions since we are all stuck at one table together. Distraction is not considered cheating. Feel free to share your political views, or pictures from your colonoscopy! We are all interested.
If it becomes clear that everyone is miserable except for you, please extend the kindness of suggesting that we end the game for the night. Everyone has better things to do. Dad needs to go sit on his Laz-E-Boy, and I need to poop in privacy. Turns out I forgot about my own food intolerances.
Please, I beg of you, do not leave behind your leftover food that has been sitting on the counter for 10 hours. I don’t want it. My fridge is a Jenga game of leftovers that I will never eat, and I don’t like salmonella.
As we hug goodbye, we will all remark on how fun it was. This is just a social norm. No one is interested in gathering again, so don’t text me tomorrow to set up the next one.
I look forward to being reminded of every single thing that annoys me about you. See you on Friday,
Your relative by blood only
