I really don't want to go to this Thanksgiving dinner thing. My husband (PSP) Bob is having a toilet crisis today which means, mess, confusion, no clothes, confusion, and did I mention..mess. I am supposed to bring something to the dinner and I really don't want to. Don't know half of the people, never good at parties, never too good at Thanksgiving anyhow. BUT, there seems no way to avoid this forced merriment. If we don't go...many hurt feelings, (they really don't understand); and just because my husband's social persona seems to be hardwired and deeply instilled by years of severe training by his polite WASP mother, they seem to think Bob is just fine when he smiles and says "Hello".
Bah humbug, sorry for the bad spirit but this I don't need,