Family Christmas Dinner Bingo

Cringey family


Christmas is a time for family… yay? Sammy Jones identifies the main offenders you’ll be trying to avoid this Christmas, and for every Christmas forevermore. Good luck and godspeed.

Christmas dinner with the whole gamut of the family is always a bit of a ‘mare. So many pitfalls to avoid: running the gauntlet from kitchen to dining room without getting a face full of mash, guessing the age of the sullen kids, trying to avoid making eye contact with your nan’s hairy mole… To take your mind off it, here’s a virtual tick-list of who to spot around the dinner table.

Politically incorrect Uncle

Godfrey Bloom being a racist

Godfrey Bloom being a bigger racist


Need an opinion? This guy’s definitely got one. I mean, it’s not the right one, but at least he’s trying. To be a giant douchebag, that is.

Signature Move: Shouting, spittle flying, about how Tony Blair should be ‘hung from the rafters’.

The Elephant in the Room

Mole twig


Don’t mention it. No, really, don’t. It’s not worth it. If you’ve got a family member with a dodgy wig, an unreliable set of teeth or a mole that must not be named, you know this feel. I just wish ‘Mr Molesworth’ would stop staring at me while I try and finish my Christmas pudding.

Signature Move: Leaving the room to adjust their wig/teeth/hearing aid every five minutes.

The Baby Present buyer (and the flip-reverse of that)

White Chicks


This person hasn’t seen you since you were ‘this high’. Mate, you MUST be high if you think I can fit into an age 11-12 Hello Kitty nightie. Get a grip. On the other hand, it does go both ways. My nan once bought me a diamante thong that I opened in front of my entire family. I was 14.

Signature Move: Holding said nightie up to you and saying, ‘my, how you’ve grown!’ Yep, I’m twenty-three now Aunt Mavis.

The Giant Babies

Girls dancing


Jesus, when did these guys get so big? Last time you saw them they were six months old and now they’re eight foot tall and have enough makeup on to fuel a clown wedding.

Signature Move: Getting really offended if you ask them if they’re still into Tamagotchis. Oops.

The Fake-Grateful Present-Reciever

Unhappy Kanye


If you’ve not seen someone in a year, it’s likely your present-buying might be way off base. Sticking to the safe option of chocolate or bland ceramics should be a safe bet – but oh wait, they hate that too.

Signature Move: Cheesily smiling while quietly plotting your doom for daring to buy them a Milk Tray. You sicko.

The Kitchen Taker-over-er

Lamb Sauce


Whose gravy is the best? Quite frankly, who cares? This guy does, and you’ll feel their wrath even if you so much as tiptoe past the hobs. In extreme cases, this one takes over kitchens that aren’t even their own.

Signature Move: Weeping into the bread sauce when it all gets a bit too much. Don’t you bloody dare touch that gravy, my girl, or you’ll feel the cold steel of their spatula.

The Person Who Doesn’t Really Know Why They’re There

Ice King and Jelly Princess


This person is a younger cousin’s boyfriend’s friend, or something. Why are they there? Who knows. They definitely don’t know. In fact, they look like they want to lock themselves in the toilet. Me too, pal, me too.

Signature Move: Telling you loads of stuff they know about you even though you’ve never met them. Been Facebook stalking have you? Creepy.

The Tipsy Tumbler

Vodka bottle crash


One too many at dinner has sent this partygoer into a free-fall, trashing baubles, crockery, and ornamental elves in his or her wake. Also red wine. All the red wine.

Signature move: Falling into the Christmas tree. Every goddamn year.

The Little Princess-Gremlin

Chucky the evil dolly.


Oh, isn’t she cute? Her little curls, her little shoes? No, not really, she’s a little brat with no morals who’s obviously been brought up wrong.

Signature move: Punching smaller children behind their parents back, screeching endlessly, and refusing to share anything.

What do you think of Sammy’s list? Any more to add? Are you dreading it all or having a festive ball? Share your thoughts on Facebook, or Twitter, or smoke signal us using Auntie Mabel’s incinerated turkey. Lush.

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