Asking for a friend

Your problems solved

Dear A&E, My sister-in-law (whom I tolerate, but we’re hardly soulmates) has already started emailing me about Christmas. She has decided it’s ‘easier’ if she hosts. For whom? She lives hours from the whole family, doesn’t have room for anyone to stay, is notoriously stingy (she’s ‘suggested’ I do lunch because she’ll be doing everything else) and starts fights with dismal regularity. Also, as far as I can tell, she and her husband loathe each other. My husband refuses to get involved. I want to kill the lot of them.

Dear Murderous, ah, the Christmas spirit rears its head once more. Isn’t it reassuring to know that we are all in this together? That it never goes away, but rather mutates and evolves. Shape-shifts and reforms. Oh, Christmas spirit – you absolute minx. We were talking to a woman the other day whose mother is suffering from severe dementia but still, when she is feeling upset, just yells, ‘TURKEY.’

Now. It could be that your sister-inlaw is the consummate politician, and this is a rather shouty Christmas power play. She’s tapped into the nightmarish side of family policymaking and established early ownership, knowing that, because we are led to believe that Christmas is somehow symbolic of our relationships, you need to do as she says or be labelled selfish, immovable and uncaring.

But here’s the thing. We think you’ve been given a golden opportueither nity. You’re being set free. Because instead of attempting utter control without lifting a finger, your sister-inlaw may be giving you carte blanche to reclaim your Christmas. And we think that you would be doing her a favour by saying ‘no thank you’ to her very kind invitation.

In fact, if we were betting women, we would put money on her not wanting you and your children to appear on her doorstep clutching a bird. Because it just doesn’t make sense: nowhere to sleep; nothing to eat; marital disharmony and the rest. Spidery attics and screeching camp beds are no fun when life is hectic and sleep is precious. You could drive there and back – Annabel does a three-hour drive most Christmas Days to see family and finds it incredibly freeing, feeling like a lone ranger on the road with music and snacks – but these cowboy antics are not for everyone.

way, perhaps choose to see this as a pink ticket rather than a prison sentence. Obviously don’t go. At some point we all have to be grown-up enough to make the commitment to have the Christmas we want without our families. Otherwise we just spend the festive season (and the run-up, and the aftermath, and the rest of our lives) filled with resentment. Which is a pointless emotion. As the famous quote goes, ‘Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.’

Your husband is another conversation, BUT… What about suggesting to him that he can’t plead the fifth on this one? He can’t hide behind you as though the domestic sphere – all that graft and negotiation – is somehow your responsibility alone. This is his family. He may be utterly sick of them but he is nonetheless accountable.

Perhaps suggest to him that he says, ‘We’ve been talking about this over the summer and we’ve decided to stay at home. Obviously you’re very welcome.’ That way everyone might get what they actually want for Christmas, which is not to be together. Parents-in-law can choose – you all suck it up like the adults that you are.

Stay at home, Murderous. Or go on safari if you can. Ski. Sleep. Drink. Meditate. Whatever. But don’t let your choices be taken away. And don’t kill anyone…

Everyone might get what they actually want for Christmas, which is not to be together