I’m going back home for Thanksgiving this year, and want to catch up with my friends as much as I want to be with family. Everyone goes out Thursday night, but my family stays around the house and they want me to too. My parents don’t understand that this is the only time of year that everyone’s in town again. How long do I have to stay around after dinner on Thursday before meeting my friends?
Sneaking out of the house is one of the best conventions of adolescence. Waiting for adenoidal snores, blessing the blare of David Letterman masking your footsteps, holding your sneakers in your hand, closing a latch with the loving attention of a vault-robber. HA! Yeah right, as you can tell from that teen movie opening sequence, I never snuck out, I just said I was sleeping over at a friends. But anyway, doing what you want to do without telling your parents is so prototypically rebellious that it’s practically wholesome.
Sneaking out the house as a full-grown, legally adult human person, meanwhile, is a hassle. No one is fooled that you’re just taking out the garbage. You still have to borrow the car. Your parents still want to know who you’re meeting and if random-person-you-basically-forgot-existed will be there. It was simpler if you just did this under the table again.
So your parents believe that your presence in the house is a mandate and they’re not completely wrong. It’s their house and you’re under their roof, so you have to answer to them. But also you’re a grown-ass adult who pays utilities, just somewhere else. Con Edison should present us with badges that allow us to come and go from other’s homes as we please.
Anyway! Your parents will always be on your case, man. You just wanna be with your friends. Blasting music in your room seems reasonable communique of your discontent. The holidays are for regressing.
If the circumstances are back to the old regime, it’s time for old schemes. Let’s plot your exit with the same diligence, finesse, rigor that we used as mere teens, with no Time Warner bill in our name and no line of credit to speak of.
It’s not about figuring out which exit to the outside is the quietest; it’s about locating a supportive party from the inside. Try to get a group of the youth together to leave together, so there is a power in numbers. If you have a parent that adores one of your friends, have that pal come collect you from your house.
Don’t seem all flightily. If you put down your fork and say, “I’ve sampled all the pies, I guess my time here is done,” it would seem so reasonable for your family to growl about you eating and running. This is a meal with lots of prep work, be around for some unwinding please.
Lay a clean path. Literally, help clean.
Watch the yawns. Every November I look up how to spell tryptophan and whether tryptophan actually makes people sleepy and also if turkeys have it, are they sleepy birds? Here’s what I learn every year: it’s spelled tryptophan, not outrageously, no. Also there is more tryptophan in sunflower seeds and Parmesan cheese, so that’s fun! Anyway, people do get all sleepy and big-bellied from eating a lot, so as soon as a family member yawns, declare the night to be winding down.
Be a good kid. Whenever I ask my mom how I can help with dinner, she just says, “Keep me company.” This is equally a story about how my mother is lovely and how I am bad at measuring and clumsy, so this keeps dishes unbroken and correctly salted. Be good company and enjoy each other, as best as you can. This means being a chill child on Thanksgiving day. If you are a hungover dishrag soaked in bourbon from the reunion bar on Wednesday, this means that you’re not a chill child on Thanksgiving day.
Leave a decoy behind. In this case, assure your family that you’re going to be spending quality time with them the next day or something, or when you’re back if they’re still up. No one will be up, I promise. Drowsy parents are like drowsy toddlers, asleep on the chair in the living room before you know it. Life is a full circle affair. Try not to be too noisy with the leftovers when you get home. Saran wrapped ones really are the safest and quietest but the good stuff is usually under tin foil.
Are you skeptical about whether you have to do something? Send your leading questions to maggie_lange@gq.com. It’s a weekly thing!
