To my nephew,
It's coming again: Thanksgiving, one of the few times you get to see your least favorite uncle. You aren't looking forward to it, but I most certainly am. I'll walk in the door proudly wearing my MAGA hat and pretend to be surprised by your cousin's fiance. I'll say, "That, erm, dark-skinned man, was he invited?" And you'll stand there and die inside. My brother - your dad - will glare at me fiercely, but I'll just pretend I don't notice. We'll sit down at the table for dinner. Your dad will pray over the meal, and I'll make a point of saying "Amen!" just a little too loudly when he's done. As we eat, your mom will ask us to say what we're most thankful for. Everyone else will say something happy and cliche like family or being together. But like the good patriot I am, I'll loudly proclaim that I'm thankful that Trump is fighting back against the deep state's coup to steal the election. Boy, that's gonna be fun! We'll argue until we're blue in the face. I'll be sure to send plenty of leering looks at your mom as she holds her head in her hands, silently wishing she hadn't invited me. I'll go off on a rant about how them stupid libs want all those illegal Mexican invaders to vote. Your dad will somehow get me to leave the table so he can talk to me in private. Of course, everyone will know that he'll be telling me to quit talking about politics. Of course, I'll pretend to agree. Of course, as soon as I step back into the room, I'll say that I'll be leaving early. Of course, I'll be sure to take a parting shot about the "gay agenda" as I head out the door. I'll be laughing as I leave, knowing that your purple-haired crazy SJW Aunt Claire is going to lecture you in a super-triggered, shrill tone about what a deplorable bitter clinger I am. For. Three. Hours. If you thought I was crazy, just wait till she starts femi-splaining nutty denunciations of me, the Republican party, and alt-right neo-Nazis - which to her are indistinguishable. And that will complete another successful Thanksgiving. After all, what better way to give thanks than to divide the family with hyperpartisan talking points? Sure, you may hate me now and wish I wasn't part of the family. But, let me tell you, kid, when you've lived as long as I have and drank as many beers as I have - okay, that second one probably isn't possible - you'll realize that I was right about those commies all along. Don't worry. You'll learn. But you'll hate me for every minute of it.
Sincerely,
Your crazy conservative Uncle.