My husband has a peculiar recipe for turkey. He simmers black cherries in butter, salty stock, sugar, and maraschino liqueur, and then injects this directly into the flesh under the skin. This year, my brother joined the family meal, and because he’s six months sober, we agreed to have no alcohol at Thanksgiving dinner. The exception was to be the turkey because all the alcohol is burned off during cooking, but my husband checked in with my brother, who said he would prefer that it not be there, so we decided to do something different.
Of course, I wouldn’t be asking you for help if certain family members didn’t decide to develop main character syndrome and decide that this was the greatest insult that they have ever suffered. My husband has been very clear that anybody who has a problem with this can go, umm, fornicate themselves. I find that a very satisfying view, I even respect it, but these are people in our lives, and I am wondering if there is a better outcome to be had.
—They Can Go Fornicate Themselves