Yesterday was the annual awkward lunch with my dad's Freudian psychiatrist father and his frigid third wife. It used to be an awkward dinner, which was a lot worse because then you had to dread it for the whole day. This way it's over and done with no later than four. My mom makes her three adult children drink wine before they come, because we're all a lot nicer when we're drunk.
There's been a major shift in the Mac/Deborah paradigm. He used to be the asshole, and she was just sort of a snarky, (literally) small person, but comparatively? Really not so bad, since she just gave you disapproving looks, while Mac might ask you if you were sure you weren't testing the tensile strength of that chair. In recent years, what with Mac having quadruple bypass surgery and breaking his back (twice), he's mellowed out a lot, and is mostly just pretty genial (and seems to have resigned himself to the fact that he has fat granddaughters), although when he hugs you, it's as a pair of human calipers, evaluating your BMI, fat percentage, weight, muscle mass, and what have you. All that said, it's pretty clear that he actually loves us, and he's related to us by blood, which counts for a little bit of loyalty. In contrast, Deborah's gotten a LOT more persnickety, a lot more unhappy, and has transformed into a significantly (though only figuratively) bigger bitch. Like maybe she'll look at dessert and say something like, "I can't imagine someone who needs to eat that. How can you eat that much? That's disgusting." Just for instance.
This lunch business happens once a year, on the Sunday before Christmas, unless the Sunday before Christmas is the 23rd or the 24th; then it happens two Sundays before Christmas. The last time I was at this lunch was in 2004. I haven't seen Mac and Deborah for four years. Just to be clear, Gabriel will be three in January.
Gabriel was dressed up in his party best, and I introduced him to his great-grandparents (whom, being as he was born in 2006, he has never met).
Me: And this is my son, Gabriel.
Deborah: Oh we met him last year.
Huh. Not only was I not here last year, Deborah refused to come last year.
AND....Mac asked various people who I was, twice. I pretended that I couldn't hear. My brother-in-law farted, VERY loudly, while we were all at the table. Kate (Duncan's girlfriend) was just wearing regular clothes, which was honestly fine, but we do wear our party clothes for this lunch. Duncan (who was also dressed up) claimed he had told her. Kate: You told me we were having lunch at your parents' house. What about that denotes a dress-up occasion?? She had a very valid point with that.
I got $100, so that was nice.
Side note: Mac and Deborah care about thank you cards. If you don't send one, they will punish you by sending less money for your birthday the following year. True story.
Nothing else of note this weekend; just getting ready for Christmas.