The Christmas Cookie Fight

My partner and I rarely, "fight," as a matter of fact when we DO, we remember. Such was our unforgettable "Christmas Cookie Fight."

Her family was coming to our apartment for the holiday visit. She was very excited. Me? Not so much. You see, her parents never liked me. Now, I can (and will, a few) give you some reasons why I know this, but some of you will feel I am biased or just too sensitive, so be it. The fact is they wanted me out of her life from the day they met me and every year after. When I was diagnosed with MS, they hoped that would soon end our "fling." (That was 11 years into our relationship.) After I was diagnosed with cancer, they could not hide their hopes for a final chance for their daughter's freedom. (That was 16 years in.) But, darn, if I didn't just keep hanging around as long as they lived.

When we first got together, they brought a surprise guest to our first meal out with them---a young man they thought had dated their daughter in the past and he would certainly remove my spell over her. They sat him between her and I. Diane was not pleased. Diane's family LOVED their daughter and within months we would move to MY state. They were not pleased, but message received. I would not tolerate such childish theatrics from two adult, liberal-minded (as long as it wasn't THEIR daughter, no, my FIL was cool, but the MIL lost all her hair after her daughter finally said the words, "I'm gay, Mom," and she then refused to speak to my partner for many months. Sigh. Over the years they would try other things to cause friction between us, but to no avail. They never gave up until their daughter became very ill and so did they---I was looking pretty good then. (25 years in)

And also making a rare appearance would be my partner's only sibling, her older sister, with her husband and two daughters. In a nutshell, the former hippie sister couldn't stand me either, but her issues were many and far beyond just me---she kept her girls from her parents and us. They were discouraged using psychological means, I still doubt the sister knew what she was doing, but it was a harsh blow to the grandparents and to us. Now they are far, far, away from us in spirit. The kids only know of us what they have heard, and those few holiday visits where one or both of us were ill. Back to the cookies.

We decided to bake cookies. I think *I* decided it, since I doubt my partner had baked cookies on her own in her life. Regardless, when it came time to decorate them, all hell broke loose.

Now, there is NO question that my partner is the artistic one. She is gifted at drawing, painting, graphic designing, and we, er, disagreed at how the cookies should be iced. We had them baked, cooled, laid out on our large table with all the production necessities about, very organized as we both are. It was an hour before the family was to arrive---what could go wrong?

Let me stop right here. One Christmas (20 years in), at the sister's house, the parents gave everyone a gift but me. Now, look, I couldn't care less about such childish slights, but what angered the heck out of me was their total ignorance about what such behaviour was doing to hurt their daughter! So MANY times I wanted to tell them just that--it is NOT me you are hurting, it is your daughter you profess to love so dearly! But I always kept my mouth shut and so did she. In fact, keeping her mouth shut, holding in her anger, is a trademark of my partner's.
She is the kindest, gentlest soul I have ever encountered, to a fault as *I* believe one must let it OUT. The only time I had ever seen her let out anger was over... popcorn. Yes, we were sitting after a movie had ended, reading every last credit as we do, when the cleaner-uppers start walking in front of our view. I said to the one moving in FRONT of my legs, "The movie has not ended yet. It would be nice if you would wait until we are out to..." He interrupted me with a smart aleck, "EXCUUUSE ME."

When we left, still holding my not quite finished popcorn, I asked to speak to the manager, a woman about 25 (as were we) and she acted rude. Holy 16MM! The next thing I knew my partner was FLYING over the counter at the mgr.! I had to haul all 110lbs of her flailing body off the counter, away from the frightened mgr., and out the door, PLUS she was shouting the entire time! SHOCKING. I loved it. My protector. That still makes us laugh hysterically, so not like her.

The NYU film school director in her came out 45 minutes before her family was to arrive and our love/joy/happy-happy faces had to go on---she did NOT like the way I was decorating the cookies; and my Irish Aries with Mars rising temper took great exception to her choice of where the sprinkles should go! We raised our voices, started yelling, slapping icing here and there (see end product above) and then it happened.

Only in movies and on the sidewalk to the home for the mentally ill on Capitol Hill in Seattle have I ever seen such a RED face. It looked like her entire head was about to explode! "Knock-Knock"
The family had arrived.

Well, the show must go on, we quickly pulled ourselves together and opened the door with the most jolly, "HI!" you would ever dream to hear. Just hysterical when we replay that moment now. And most of the cookies were eaten, no questions asked. But, seriously, just LOOK at those sorry-ass cookies. I'm pretty sure the cat was my doing.