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Opinion: Grandma Didn’t Die in a Horrific Knitting Accident Just for Me To Lose This Ugly Sweater Contest

Today is the day: the highly anticipated annual office ugly sweater contest of 2022. A contest where irony and silliness reign supreme. But this year’s competition is different. I WILL be the last one standing, because I’ll be cold dead in the ground before I let my Gam-Gam’s tragic death be in vain.

Gam-Gam knew how utterly important it was for me to win this year, especially because she was there by my side each night when I cried thinking about how I was tragically snubbed out of every year for the past 8 years first prize. This year I know Gam-Gam is up there, looking down and cheering me on as I completely slay the competition.

As a matter of fact, the competition this year is just downright insulting.

Look at Derek from payroll, with his shitty, uninspired store-bought bullshit sweater. Or Carol from HR with her nice, cutesy, clearly not even ugly rags she has on. None of them compare to what I possess. Mine was created with love, and literal blood, sweat and tears. The unfortunate needle jamming into an electrical outlet my grandmother endured is the driving force giving me the power to be the victor. She DIED for this sweater.

As I stand here, in front of the judges/lovely ladies down in payroll, I recall the words Gram whispered into my ear as she was peeled off of the loveseat and laid onto that stretcher: She told me that I need to win, for her honor, to not let her tragic death be all for not. That or she said not to forget to feed her cats, I don’t know, it was hard to hear with all the ambulance sirens and hydraulic-powered tools going off.

The time has finally arrived, Debrah is fast approaching me, her grin is a promising start. All the melted hair and ribbon candy encrusted on this thing is sure to capture the rest of the judge’s attention. This one’s for you, Gam-Gam.