Stunt Dad: 12 Days of Christmas Chaos: Day 12

On the twelfth day of Christmas Chaos I would like the universe to give to me….12 relative reminders.

We are hosting Christmas for the last time this year. We are just hours away from grandparents who can't remember my name, an uncle who refuses to smoke his cigar anywhere but in the family room, cousins who still argue about the season finale of Lost, and several nephews who will have each stolen at least one thing from house before dinner time. Rather than focus on the negative, here are 12 personal reminders on how to get through the ~~worst~~, best day of the year!

12. Spot the Spoiler. There is always one family member that you know will do 1 of 3 things: get drunk, have a fight, or insult someone. You know who it is, you just don't know when it will happen. Find out who that person is and drop a spoonful of Ex-Lax into their first drink. You'll have to sacrifice a bathroom for the majority of the night, but the return will be a drama free evening.
11. Brake the Bulldozer. Someone will try to take over. Whether its Aunt Patty or Cousin Stacy, someone will challenge you for control. Whoever it is this year, try the "cut-off" approach, meaning: match their body language. Every time Aunt Patty opens her mouth, comment on her personal appearance. So, before Aunt Patty can say, "I think the Turkey is done"—just after she says think, you can smile and say, "you are showing way to much cleavage." Trust me, be the time dinner rolls around, you will have painted Aunt Patty as the neighborhood whore and you can look forward to a peaceful and quiet 5 course meal.
10. Curb the Critic. The turkey is too dry. The cranberry is too mushy. The red wine is too red. For me, it's Wayne. Wayne is technically my uncle, but he's adopted (and a raging alcoholic), so not calling him uncle is my little way of not considering him a part of the family. For your Wayne, try one-upping him. When he says he watches football on a 60" plasma at home, tell him you bought a 100" inch for this year's Super Bowl. When he says he just bought a new Mercedes, tell him you are getting a Ferrari for your wife's birthday. Watch him stew and not have the "cahones" to call you out on it. It's actually a really fun game to play.
9. Exterminate the Expert. I won't name names on this one, because there are a few relatives who fall into this category. You'll hear definitive medical diagnosis', solutions to our healthcare system, and why our country's youth aren't attending church. For these people and their complete disregard for anyone else's opinion, I urge you to challenge them to a fencing dual every time they put themselves on a pedestal. Literally, have a mat set up in the basement, with fencing jackets, masks and bladed weapon of choice, ready to go. No one outside of the UK knows how to fence, so chances are in your favor that "relative X" will bashfully decline. For those who are brave enough to try accept the dual, remember the Cobra Kai mantra: Strike first, strike hard, and no mercy sir!
8. Lynch the Loudmouth. He is so loud. So uncontrollably and annoyingly loud. You can hear him from the next room or from the basement, and there is nothing you can do. Until now. I vote that you pull him aside, and as his friend, tell him that someone thinks he's a jerk. A real obnoxious jerk. But, because it's family, you can't say their name. By doing this, Mr. Loudmouth will be completely consumed with trying to figure out who this mystery person is all night and will turn into a creepy stalker than a hellish vocalizer. Small price to play for silence.
7. Gag the Gossip. Did you know that your Aunt cheated on your Uncle ten years ago? Did you know that your cousin was fired for sexual harassing the CEO's administrative assistant? None of this is information I need—or care—to know. These types of facts usually come to life about three or four drinks into the night, so once the first couple of bottles of wine are gone, be on the lookout. Once the first set of dirty laundry airs, repeat the entire sentence as loud as you can. When the entire party hears that your niece has gonorrhea, that will pretty much guarantee the end of gossip for the evening.
6. Dope up the Dullard. These people are one step up from being a piece of sh*t. They don't speak unless spoken to. When they do speak, you wish they hadn't. Question: "So, I haven't seen you since last Christmas, what's new in your world?"Answer: "Nothing." Really? You have nothing new or worth talking about for the past 12 months? Tell me you actually thought the X Factor was a good show. Tell me that you now prefer eating oatmeal to cereal. You've got give me something to work with! When you do hear the "Nothing" response, ask them what they would do if they were fired next week, and however they answer, start probing. And keep probing. Just hammer them with questions until you force your cousin to admit that he always wanted to become a professional gymnast, but felt embarrassed by the size of his manhood. Go ahead, he's had that bottled up for more than 20 years.
5. Enrage the Eco-ist. The Eco-ist is very concerned with the ingredients in each of one of the dishes you've spent days preparing. He or she reminds you of the starving children in Africa and expresses extreme disappointment that no one at the party has donated any money to the Children of Ethiopia Education Fund. Hey, I'm all for recycling, making the world better, and all that good stuff—but not today. Not at Christmas. Let me open the crappy clothes from Kohls I received in peace and keep your Tree-Hugging bullsh*t to yourself. When Eco-Person speaks, I think you should religion them to death. Tell them it's Jesus' birthday and that you are offended by their lack of respect for talking about animal exploitation instead of opening the set of steak knives you got them.
4. Bite the Brat. He's a little sh*t. A complete brat. Everyone hates him and the parents are oblivious to how rotten he is. He'll walk right up to you, start poking you in the leg, and then stomp on your foot as he turns and walks away. My advice: pour your drink on him. When his foot touches you in the slighest, empty your entire drink, ice cubes, and straw onto his head—and flash the most wicked of all smiles. He will freeze up in complete shock. He'll want to cry, but your smile tells him that the worst has yet to come if he says, does, or thinks of anything else sh*tty to do.
3. Confuse the Creep. He'll be wearing Old Spice. Either a gold necklace or rings. A sweater from the 70s. And, he talks close—real close. You never know if his hand will be on your neck, your shoulder, or—gulp—your thigh. He's way beyond inappropriate and you often will have your finger hovering the 911 button on your cell phone as soon as he looks in your direction. But, you can flip the tables on him. Really throw him for a loop. So when he approaches you, make the first move. Put your arm around his shoulders, sneeze a few times into his face, and come real close to making out with him. As soon as he feels your hot breath on his nose hairs, he'll be running for his next victim.
2. Happy-Up the Hater. The hater dislikes everything: Life. Work. School. Sports. Sex. The hater will explain why President Obama has ruined our country. Why Justin Beiber has ruined music. And, why Tim Tebow has ruined football. None of it makes any sense. At the end of the diatribe, the hater comes across as just an unpleasant and unhappy jerk. Whenever the hater states, "The problem is...", you interject with something that you like. So that the conversation would go something like, "The problem is...I like to watch porn on my smartphone." The hater will not only be surprised, but you might actually get him or her to crack a smile.
1. Lampoon the Lazya$$. This person never brings food, never picks-up, and never does dishes. This person is the epitome of a showing up to the party with a 'mouth full of gimme and a handful of nothin.' But this year, things change. Let's make this person actually feel really, really bad about their rude behavior. When this person walks into your house, immediately bring them a frozen dessert and thank them for not being courteous enough to bring or even offer to bring the Apple Pie. When this person finishes a drink, immediately bring them another and thank them for not getting up and making everyone else wait on them hand and foot. When this person finishes their meal, start piling every last dirty plate, bowl, spoon, knife, and fork in front of them and say, "It's your turn to clean this sh*t up."

What can I say? Hosting Christmas can bring out the snarkiest in a man. You can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family. Despite the 12 reminders, I really do love them all, in their own unique ways. However, this year I'm prepared. I've got a plan and I'm sticking to it. And little Billy, considered yourself warned—I'm drinking bloody mary's this year because the smell of tomato juice makes you nauseous. Oh yeah, one more thing: MERRY CHRISTMAS!