C’mon, fess up. You’re not really looking forward to seeing the relatives at Christmas. Your passive aggressive mother-in-law, your green-haired sister and her latest excon boyfriend, Uncle Joe sniffing the little girls’ hair – it’s all too much.
Fortunately, there’s still enough Covid or Covid terror around to give you an out. When planning the holiday feast, make sure your loved ones understand that your near-psychopathic fear of the virus means the Christmas dinner from hell.
How? The Washington Post suggests some “Questions to ask your relatives before gathering for an indoor holiday meal.” These inquiries are guaranteed to both insult your family members and to convince them that you’re apt to wet yourself if somebody accidentally brushes your sleeve. Only the most militant of Christmas revelers could endure these questions without saying, “You know, let’s just forget it. See you at the July 4th BBQ.”
“What precautions do you plan to take and would you like others to do the same?”
Body armor and personal flotation device. Male guests, please consider a protective cup.
“Are you fully vaccinated? Have you received a booster shot?”
I walk around with an IV drip of vaccine, thank you very much.
“Are you traveling from an area with a high coronavirus transmission rate or low vaccination rate?”
The warden made sure we were vaxed, and we wore masks, even in the exercise yard.
“Do you have a high-risk medical condition that puts you at risk of severe covid-19?”
Yes, my health is very fragile and I fear this may be my last chance to see everyone before I check out.
“In the two weeks leading up to the gathering, will you limit exposure by skipping higher-risk activities like eating at indoor restaurants or interacting with unvaccinated people?”
Sure, but don’t you think the ankle monitor is a bit much?
“Do you agree to get tested a few days before the party?”
Would you like the results notarized?
“If the group decides to require masks when not eating, will you keep yours on?”
Yes, if only to hide the condescending smirk your conversation invariably provokes.
“Will you let everyone know if you have any symptoms two weeks before the party or if you’ve been exposed to someone who has tested positive for the coronavirus?”
I would relish the opportunity to spread panic and sow fear.
“If you don’t feel well the day of the gathering, do you agree to stay home?”
And miss all the fun?