It’s always been difficult to spend the holidays with a racist aunt or uncle, a homophobic parent, or a racist and homophobic grandfather, and these days it just keeps getting harder to avoid things getting tense around the holidays. That’s why this year I’ve decided to crush that tension before it begins. I’m going full nuclear this year and just telling my cousin who his real father is.
The fact that anybody ever trusted me with this major family secret is beyond me, but I can say for sure that they’ll never be making that mistake again. I plan on wasting no time throwing a grenade right into this already shattered family. With all the focus on my aunt and uncle’s “complicated dating habits,” I doubt even the Trumpiest of relatives can bring me down this holiday season.
Psychologists agree that stress is bad for the body, and I’ve decided it’s about time I start taking action to minimize stress and enjoy my Christmases again. Gone are the days that I would wait and hope nobody mentions immigration, or skip the music in a panic every time Chappell Roan comes on. Before Uncle Marcus even has the opportunity to think about the queers, I’ll be telling his son that sixteen years ago, his mother met a very nice car salesman named John. If all goes well, people will be yelling in the kitchen so loud, they won’t even notice how expensive the groceries were.
Nothing brings a family together like a secret, and it’s about time that effort gets recognized. Poor Johnny Junior is in for a rough holiday, but I know that as soon as I mention that handsome car salesman, I may not have to worry about hearing the term “illegals” ever again. I fully expect any and all pent-up political anger to fly right out the front door and stay out until the New Year, just like Marcus did the day he discovered a striking resemblance between his newborn son and the man who sold him his car.
Sure, I’ll take my fair share of blame for spilling the beans, but what is an hour of yelling when the alternative is two full weeks of pure, unmanageable rage? With any luck, next year, my family members will avoid speaking to me entirely.
