Dear Prudence,
Every year, I dread Thanksgiving because my wife always lets her mother, “Anisa,” dictate what will be served and how to make the turkey. Her recipes bite ass. Everything either comes out too salty, too dry, too soggy, or overdone.
I’ve been putting up with this for the last five years since her parents retired and moved to our city to be closer to our kids (who hate her variations on the food as well), and I am sick of it. My wife says that we need to humor her mother because “she doesn’t know how many Thanksgivings she has left.” Bullshit. Anisa is in her mid-60s and has no significant health issues. I’m thinking of just piling the kids in the car the night before and smuggling them to my sister’s so we can have some decent food for a change. Do I have permission to do that?