Thanksgiving is already for screaming matches with relatives, but it shouldn't be demeaned with mere politics. The screaming matches are over important things, like what Aunt Kathy said about Aunt Sonia in 1993, and where did Great-Grandma's china hutch go when she died because it certainly didn't go to Cousin Myrtle as was promised, and how dare Uncle John say those things about Jimmy's plans to be a professional harpist instead of going into the Air Force? Are those walnuts in the salad, are you trying to kill Great Aunt Winifrid? No, she's not allergic, she just doesn't like them, but the woman barely eats anything she weighs 80 pounds and now you're denying her salad because you just want to show off your fancy money from your highpowered job working the counter at the Hallmark store! Will you just look at Martin's daughters, dressed like whores, I blame their stepmother: what was he thinking, marrying a woman ten years younger than him? Dirty old man just like his father, what did you just say about George?! *dropping of crystal pickle dish* That belonged to Great Grandpa Buster, you clumsy bitch! Don't you use that kind of language---oh my Lord, Myrtle just fainted! Drunk? No, she wasn't drinking! You're confusing her with your delinquent son, who isn't here because he's in juvie, not college, we all know it...