I played hooky with Commander Logic yesterday, so no posts, sorry! If you’ve been wondering “Is Hot Doug’s still delicious? Is the movie adaptation of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy a) enjoyable b) a clinic in the importance of lens choice and detail in production design c) a fucking masterpiece of acting in Gary Oldman’s performance? Is scotch delicious? Is reading fundamental?” Good news, everyone! The answer to all of these questions is “Yes.”
Continuing on the theme of “parents who throw tantrums” with a bit of leftover “the winter holidays are not shiny and wonderful for everyone,” today’s question is about a mom who disowned her adult daughter on Christmas day.
Dear Captain Awkward,
On Christmas day, my mother disowned me.
I recently moved into a sweeeet new place with my boyfriend of two and a half years. It was unanimously agreed by everyone that my Mum and little brother would spend Christmas at our place. I decorated the tree, hung up paper chains, bought a ton of food. Well, as soon as they got here, they started complaining: Our kettle doesn’t boil fast enough, our bathroom door doesn’t close easily enough, the door locks behind them when they go out to smoke, they wanted their Christmas presents NOW not on Christmas day.