Here it is, my friends: My annual column on how to survive your annoying family during the holidays. Now, I know that some of you love being with your natal clan and — bless you — you’re the lucky ones.
But others find the experience deeply stressful, and would rather not stop at the marijuana dispensary to find relief. Although, in some cases, it might be warranted.
If you’re going out of town to visit family, my first and most important tip can be summed up in four words: Stay in a hotel. Yes, I know your relatives are going to be pestering you and acting miffed that you won’t stay with them, but don’t get sucked into this. You’re old enough to do what you well please. Yes, you are.
As the expression goes, “No” is a complete sentence.” And hearing “But we cleaned all the dog hair out of the guest room for you!” is not a reason to feel guilty.
If you really must, you can make up an excuse. “I’m allergic to your iguana,” will work. Or a bad back. “I need a special bed like they have at the Hilton.” Use your imagination. Or you can just express a desire for a clean, anonymous space with an escape hatch. I enjoy staying in a hotel when I visit family, so I have my own space to get away from them and drink.
And, realistically, as much as they complain, it’s really easier for the family as well. They can wake up and drink the beverage of their choice without observation. They have a small breather from togetherness. They can go to bed when they want. So don’t let anyone guilt you into staying in Little Mikey’s room, or even the guest room with the frilly pillow shams.
If you’re the host and it’s in your budget, put them up in a hotel. (See above) If not, plan activities for them that will get them out of your hair for a few hours every day. Maybe pretend that you have to work, and just go sit in your car somewhere pleasant, like the park. Or drop them off somewhere they’ll enjoy.
You do realize you don’t have to go to Disneyland with them, right? There’s a drop-off lane right in front on the southbound lane of Harbor Boulevard that’s just perfect for relative-shedding. Or you can drop them at Downtown Disney, by taking Magic Way from Disneyland Drive, turning left at Downtown Drive and following the signs to the 15-minute drop-off area.
At no point in the family contract does it say that you’re required to hike the Magic Kingdom all day, spending a fortune, dodging massive crowds and standing in hideous lines, to prove you love them. Pretend you recently sprained your ankle and it’s still tender, if you’re too much of a wimp to just say no.
If you still feel guilty, go over to the Target near Disneyland on Harbor Boulevard in Garden Grove and buy them some Disneyland merch, like matching T-shirts, which is cheap there. And surprise them with it before they go.
You can be free of them for a good eight to 12 hours this way, and they’ll come home really tired, after you pick them up at the same location. Tired is good. And if there’s bickering while they’re there, you don’t have to hear it.
When everyone is home together, the situation can become fraught with danger, especially with the contentious nature of the political scene these days. I suggest getting an air horn, and just blowing it when anyone starts talking about politics. “Change the subject,” you then remind them. “No politics.” I’m not saying these discussions aren’t important, but I am saying they’re mostly useless, no one’s opinion ever gets changed and they drag down the gathering. Have duct tape n hand to tie down Uncle Fred if you think there’s any chance he’ll take a swing at someone. (And, note that the air horn also works at Costco, to get those big families out of your way in the aisles.)
Liquor is always a double-edged sword. It can make people funnier than they are in real life, but it can also make them more combative and Aunt Frida’s tongue even nastier than usual. Consider watering the bottle down. Or making a bucket of sangria that’s heavy on the fruit and light on the wine. “Oops, sorry. That’s all we have. We’re not doing hard liquor this year.” Of course, you should keep a bottle of the good stuff hidden in your room for quick medicinal nips, if necessary.
Now, some of you faithful readers may notice that I haven’t brought up the subject of the invisible friend. That’s because he or she deserves an entire column, so I’ll save it for next week. If I missed any good tips, send them on over. I’m at mfisher@scng.com. If I use them, I’ll credit you.