Down with Absolutes!

1. Don’t get in line asking questions about the food. “Who made the potato salad? Is there egg in there? Are the greens fresh? Is the meat in the greens turkey or pork? Who made the macaroni and cheese? What kind of pie is that? Who made it?” Ask one more question and I will punch you in your mouth, knocking out all your fronts so you won’t be able to eat a mutha fuckin’ thang! YOUR FAMILY MADE IT, that’s ALL you need to know! And I know Auntie Michael can’t cook, but you will be giving thanks anyway! And don’t be gettin’ all ignant about the bad ass weave he…I mean she…got sewn into her head! Don’t make me have to fuck you up on a day we’re to be giving thanks!

2. If you can’t walk or are missing any limbs, sit your mutha fuckin’ ass down until someone makes a plate for you. Dinner time is not the time for you to be independent! Nibble on them damn pecans and walnuts to hold you over until someone helps you. Get independent and you’ll become dependent on my foot kicking you down my stairs to the basement where the childrenz are! How YOU doin’!?

3. If you have kids under the age of 12, I will escort their evil asses to the basement and bring their food down to them. They are not gonna tear up my damn house this year! Tell them that they are not allowed upstairs until it’s time for Uncle Cletus to start telling family stories about their mommas and papas. If they come upstairs for any reason except for that, they’z goin’ be bleeding to death from my size 9 shoes being broke off in their asses!

4. There is going to be one prayer for Thanksgiving dinner! JUST ONE! And if you start trying to act a fool and start that choich-dancing, hallelurrr stuff, we’z goin’ have problems! And we don’t care if you’re thankful that your 13 year old daughter gave birth to a healthy baby or your nephew just got out of jail. Save that talk for a mutha fucka who gives a damn cuz it ain’t me! The time limit for the prayer is one minute. If you are still talking after that one minute is up, you will feel something hard come across your lips and they will be swole and you won’t be able to eat none of Big Momma’s cookin’. How YOU doin’!?

5. Finish everything on your plate before you go up for seconds! If you don’t, you will be cursed out and asked to stay your ass home next year! Ya heard?!

6. BRING YOUR OWN TUPPERWARE!! Don’t let me catch you fixing yourself a plate in my good Tupperware knowing damn well that I will never see it again! Furthermore, if you didn’t bring anything over, don’t let me catch you making a plate period or someone will be catching a case! This ain’t Sunday Breakfast Mission, mutha fucka!! This Big Momma’s House! Don’t get it twisted lest you get my foot up yo’ ass!

7. What you came with is what you should leave with!! Do not leave my house with anything that doesn’t belong to you. Everybody will be subjected to a body search coming and going out of my crib, including ya damn childrenz!!!

8. Do not leave your kids so you can go hopping from house to house. This ain’t a daycare center! There will be a kid-parent roll call every ten minutes. Any parent that is not present at the time of roll call, your child will be put outside until you come and get him or her. After 24 hours, I will call DHS on yo’ mutha fuckin’ ass!!

9. BOOK YOUR HOTEL ROOM BEFORE YOU COME INTO TOWN!! There will be no sleeping over! You are to come and eat dinner, socialize for a short while (I said SHORT while), and be the fuck gone! EVERYBODY GETS KICKED THE HELL OUT AT 8:00 p.m. You will get a 15 minute warning bell ring, then it will be on and poppin’!

10. Last but not least! ONE PLATE PER PERSON!! This ain’t no goddamn soup kitchen. I am not trying to feed your family until Christmas dinner! You will be supervised when you fix your plate. Anything over the appropriate amount will be charged to you before you leave. There will be a cash register at the door. Thanks to Cousin Bubba and his greedy ass family, we now have a credit card machine via cellular — so if it’s gonna bounce, bitch, it’s gonna bounce then and there!! I ain’t gettin’ stiffed like I did last year, Nyomiquita, Lemeesha, James, Shantell, Rachelay, and Tyrone! All credit cards are now being accepted. And that don’t mean food stamps or ACCESS/EBT cards, bitches! This ain’t no mutha fuckin’ grocery store!

11. Oh! And may the Lawd God Almighty bless each and everyone one of us this holiday season. How ya doooooorin’?! Amen.