ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
“It’s just that your fucking aunt and uncle eat so much, I don’t know how much to cook,” she said.
“That and they’ll probably be Grant Hackett wheelchair drunk by the time the turkey comes out of the oven and they won’t even taste it! God! Why does it always feel like it’s my turn to host Christmas! Fuck!”
Michael Roundtree didn’t have an answer, he just told his mother she was right and that she had every right to be stressed about Christmas lunch.
Even though he didn’t necessarily agree.
The Betoota Heights resident spoke to The Advocate this afternoon about the current mood his mother is in – all because of Christmas lunch.
“I long to be stressed about something so trivial,” he said.
“But she has a point but it’s also the 22nd of November. There’s like 60-odd days until the big dance. She could microwave the fucking turkey and I’d still eat it. Dad would still eat it, then start smoking at the table, ashing on his empty plate like some sort of Persian king,”
“Honestly, she’ll John Candy her big heart one day if she lets herself get this stressed about things like this.”
Our reporter spoke to Marcia Roundtree this afternoon about her planned Christmas lunch and the trials and tribulations that go into such an endeavour.
“You don’t and probably will never understand the responsibility,” she said coldly.
“In fact, I’m too stressed to even talk about it. Bonsoir, Errol.”
More to come.
