Why is being an adult just “planning committee chair” for everything? I love my friends—really, I do! But making plans with them feels like organizing a tiny wedding every single time. And don’t even get me started on family holidays. Remember when you could just roll up to your mom’s house for Thanksgiving, eat your body weight in mashed potatoes, and call it a day? No grocery shopping. No cleaning. No cooking. Just you, your siblings, your nieces and nephews, and zero responsibility. Now? Hosting family feels like running a bed-and-breakfast with an extra side of chaos. I swear, the larger the family, the more it feels like you’re managing a logistics company. Could someone please invent a time machine just so I can re-live the days when all I had to contribute was showing up?
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