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Why is it that people feel the need to comment on what's on your plate at the dinner table? "Oh, you're eating salad? Are you on a diet?" No, Susan, I just thought I'd try this new thing called vegetables. They say it's a crazy trend catching on. And then there's that one friend who's always judging your portion size. "Is that all you're eating?" Yes, Brenda, this is my dinner, not a competitive eating contest. I'm not training for the Olympics of overindulgence.
I've started responding with overly dramatic explanations. "Oh, this tiny salad? It's my secret weapon for world domination. Gotta keep the energy up, you know. The fate of the universe depends on these croutons." Watch how quickly they stop commenting on your plate.
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Have you ever been to a potluck dinner where everyone brings a dish, and there's always that one mysterious casserole that no one claims? It's like a potluck crime scene, and everyone's looking around like, "Who brought the mystery lasagna?" I tried it once. I took a tiny portion, just in case it was a secret family recipe that I didn't want to steal accidentally. Turns out, it was more of a secret family shame. Nobody claimed it, and by the end of the night, that casserole was untouched, like a rejected contestant on a cooking show.
I thought about creating a CSI spinoff just for potluck mysteries. "Tonight, on Potluck Investigation Unit, Detective Fork uncovers the truth behind the abandoned jello salad. Spoiler alert: it was abandoned for a reason.
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Can we talk about the technology wars at the dinner table? It's like we're all generals strategizing our next move with smartphones and tablets. Grandma's over there thinking she's texting, but she's actually updating her Facebook status with random emojis. And then there's the battle for the last outlet. It's like musical chairs but with power cords. You have to make a strategic move when no one's looking, and if you lose, you're stuck with a dead phone, and that's social suicide in the 21st century.
I tried bringing a power strip once, thinking I'd be the hero of the dinner table. Instead, I became the enemy because apparently, I was encouraging more screen time. Next family reunion, I'm bringing a generator.
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You ever notice how the dinner table turns into a battlefield the moment someone brings up politics? I mean, it's like trying to navigate a minefield in a minecart. You're just sitting there, innocently buttering your bread, and suddenly, BAM! Uncle Bob declares war on the mashed potatoes. And then there's that one cousin who thinks they're a political expert because they watched a documentary on Netflix. They're like, "Did you know that the geopolitical landscape is directly connected to the number of dinner rolls consumed per capita?" Yeah, thanks for enlightening us, Professor Breadroll.
It's gotten so bad that I've considered bringing a referee to family dinners. You know, someone with a whistle and a yellow card. "Uncle Bob, that's a red card for bringing up taxes during dessert. We agreed, only light topics like the weather or why the dog looks guilty.
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