Worst Christmas meal ever? Can be because of hideous food, dreadful company, unbearable tension...or all of the above!

[sprigatito]

We had some terrible Christmases when I was a child - divorced parents, nobody got along, my mother was a crap cook and had a violent temper and my stepfather had Victorian tendencies (no talking at the table) so Christmas dinner was generally horrendous on a number of levels. This wasn't improved during the years when my dad was around for Christmas, because we'd get dropped off at his (freezing, uninhabitable) house straight after dinner, where he'd have bought enough meat and cheese to feed an army and expect us to eat it all. Christmases at home tended to end with a blazing row and someone storming out in the middle of dinner/charades/the night.

I love Christmas now (and am NC with my mother) but at around this time of year I do get the slight collywobbles remembering how awful it used to be. I have this horrible but funny image of my mother's face under a gaily coloured paper hat snarling "you've ruined Christmas for everyone, now shut your mouth or I'll knock your block off"

So what's your "worst Christmas dinner ever" story?

Thank you. The family was strong but there was always someone missing.

Christmas Day 1997 , just sat down to Dinner and sadly started miss carrying , complete bedrest over subsequent days - then on 29th ( my birthday) rushed in for scan - then d and c on 30th , broke my heart .

She could have hung up! She didn’t need to listen to the whole thing!

Every Christmas was horrible with my alcoholic ex. He didn’t appear to be an alcoholic initially, obviously it’s progressive but he was a heavy drinker and from the moment he finished work before Christmas he would start drinking and lie around on the sofa or disappearing for hours at a time. He always managed to ruin it with some tantrum or other, same for my birthdays or Mother’s Day, anything I enjoyed or might involve me having to be treated nicely brought out the worst in him. Each Christmas was worse, I could never be excited about it because I knew it would just be chaos and drama the whole time. One Christmas he pushed past me and I “accidentally” fell down the stairs and I hit my leg so hard it actually split the skin - have a scar and lump there to this day. Another one he locked himself and baby ds in the bedroom and I actually had to call the police - he talked his way out of that one. Even after I finally got him out he’d still turn up drunk and abusive to try and make a scene. I don’t have anything to do with him now and I am so relieved I can enjoy Christmas again.

Arrived at then in-laws to an atmosphere you could cut with a knife. She was in the kitchen, he was in the living room. Turned out he had bought her a Slendertone set (he was a practical man, she had been whinging about her weight) and she had bought him something for his camera that was super expensive so was his only present. Only she hadn’t checked what kind of camera he had and it was useless for his one. The whole meal was a passive aggressive nightmare. So I got drunk. And ex got drunk. Then we realised we would not be able to drive home. So we walked 7 miles in pitch darkness. Madness!

Mine was when I was 16 and my father gave me my first alcoholic drink after dinner - a Bacardi and coke. It made me tipsy because I had never drunk before so my father slapped me full force across the face.
Close runner up was spending my first Christmas dinner with my now In-laws - it was all Aunt Bessie’s frozen food and instant gravy with all of his teenage nieces and nephews making nasty comments and taking the piss out of me.
This is why we spend Christmas Day with just our young DC these days!

Not food related but two crap Christmases

First was my grandad died

This man was my everything-he brought me up and we adored each other

Every Christmas we'd go to my parents and I'd have the most special man watch me open my presents and spend the day together

He died in the Nov and that Christmas,we had to ignore the empty chair at the table and pretend he wasn't missing in case we upset my mother (who hadn't given a fuck about him when he was alive)

I got upset and had a CD player thrown at my head because 'I miss him more than you do!my pain is greater!'

I learnt to grieve in private-tears where a weakness

Years later,covid hit

We live 200 miles away from my darling inlaws

We'd arranged to go for Christmas (fil was vulnerable but we said we'd use common sense) but then Boris stepped up and said it was cancelled

We said we'd go anyway,got everything packed and in the car and was about to set off early Christmas eve

The phone rang-my darling mil had heard that the army where checking cars to see if the journey was 'valid' and sending people back with fines if it was found you where travelling without a good reason (god knows where she heard this)

She was freaking out and asked us not to go as she didn't want us in trouble so we had to do a mad dash to tesco,just to buy some food as we had nothing in

Miserable Christmas at home with our joint of crap beef,cheap gravy and a shitty tasteless trifle (sherry laced,my arse)

Week later,we get the call to say fil was ill-very ill-he wasn't going to make it

Mad dash to go see him-no army in sight-he dies in the march-we where up and down the m25 like loons

We where robbed of his last Christmas-I'll never forgive Boris (I'm still fuming over his Christmas parties)

I don't do Christmas now

The year my Mum finally cracked in the middle of Boxing Day lunch and threw my father out as he was having an affair. It came as a complete shock to us teenage kids.

The next day I met up with my friend, related my take of woe and asked how her Christmas was. “Grandad died at the table. In the middle of Christmas dinner”

TW: domestic violence.

Backstory is that I grew up in a domestic violence household. Mum's ex husband. He had a hair trigger temper and the smallest thing would send him into a flying rage. I grew up thinking it was normal for other people to live with holes punched in walls/doors/people to be hurt on a daily basis.

Anyway, Christmas was a particular nightmare. He hated the festivities, hated us (me and my siblings) being happy, hated us making any kind of noise, hated decorations and thought Christmas presents were pointless 'because you fucking kids already cost enough'. On more than one occasion the presents would have been smashed up before the day ended. The order of the day in our house was staying quiet, out of the way and hiding whatever presents we did have before they got destroyed.

As for Christmas dinner- forget about it. He lived off deep fat fryer chips, sausages and buttered white bread. And omelettes from the local chip shop. Any other food was deemed as <insert very racist word> and would send him into a rage. I had my first Christmas dinner aged 18 with a now ex boyfriends family.

I have my own family and husband now. We actually have our Christmas dinner on Christmas eve and then Christmas day I just leave food out so we can all nibble at will. I don't go totally OTT with presents but I get presents I know the kids will love and enjoy instead. Relaxed, happy, fed, loved children- that's my idea of Christmas

@Icalledmywheelchairdoris that made me well up, esp your last sentence. Well done to you for surviving and giving your children a lovely Christmas (and I'm sure, childhood).

Amazing resilience from many on this thread.

Thankfully the kids are a pre teen and a teen so they are quite happy to be left alone. The teen is an avid reader so usually disappears back to their lair with the cat and their new stack of books.

As for me, I usually sit on the sofa, new book in hand, other cat on my lap and a fairly constant stream of cheese and chocolate. DH and the kids usually have a competition over how long it'll take me to conk out on the sofa.

Had tonsillitis and such a high fever that I hallucinated elves flying round the ceiling

I thought to myself when I read the Op that I’ve been very fortunate in never having had a bad Christmas. And then I remembered my waters breaking at 30 weeks one Christmas morning and spending the rest of the day in hospital and being 26 weeks pregnant with the next baby who we’d been told not to expect to survive a few years later (he did), me getting absolutely infuriated with BIL’s rudeness once meaning I swore to myself I’d never spend another Christmas with the oaf (I haven’t) and then remembered the Christmas we all spent stricken with explosive norovirus!

But nothing that comes close to some posts on here. I hope those of you that have escaped shitty families and horrible men have a wonderful year this year ❤️

Mine was our first Christmas after we were married. I was cooking my first ever Christmas dinner, but I also got the flu Christmas day. I pointed my husband to the kitchen while I died slowly on the sofa.

So many...

The year my mum kicked my sister out mid Xmas dinner about one of mums string of bfs not turning up.

The year I made plans with family friends for a lovely day after everyone else said they were doing something else (I was17). Only to forceably remove me to one of their Christmas meals that I hadn't even been invited to because me spending Xmas with anyone but a family member was an embarrassment.

One of the best was when I was in a homeless hostel surprisingly. I spent the day cooking the usual fare. Not for anyone, but because I was bored. I was the oldest resident, in my 20s. The rest being teens. One by one they came back to the house after various parental disagreement, and we all ate my food together and sang songs and made a brilliant time of it.

I’m so sorry for all of you that have had truly dreadful Christmases, I hope that you are in better places now.

It’s probably not the worst Christmas but the oddest was when my child was one month old, I was breastfeeding and had the raging hunger.

We went to ex’s parents house, beautiful decorations and inviting smells. Exes parents slaved in the kitchen from 10 to about 4pm resisting all offers of help. I ate only a little beforehand in anticipation of mil’s superb cooking, but ex was so hungry he made himself a few rounds of toast at about 3pm.

4pm arrives, mil dishes up in the kitchen and brings the plates to the dining room. Ex eats like a pig in a trough, has finished his meal about 5 minutes after mil sits down and announces that’s it, he’s full. Whereupon the plates are removed and that is it. The cheese is put back in the fridge, pudding put away for another day, coffees and biscuits never offered, the meal stops.

I managed to nearly finish my plateful as it was whipped out from under me, but no second helpings are offered ( and mil is a strong believer in penis portions when dishing up). I was ravenous. No nibbles are on offer for the rest of the day.

In desperation I forced ex to make me some sarnies at 10pm.

I have no idea what was going on there, mil must have been fucked off at her son’s wankery, but why not carry on having the meal that she’d slaved over and tell him to do one?

I hosted the next year, food wasn’t a patch on hers but there was plenty of it. Despite me being at work in the morning ex stayed in bed until he heard his parents car then jumped up to receive the praise and adulation from his parents for all his hard work. Before two months passed I left him.

The Christmas after my mother died in August. I had suffered a breakdown and was living in a hostel. I had set aside money to go to the cinema and then a takeaway. It was nice but sad and the half takeaway I’d put in the fridge was stolen.

@Professionalmess that is such a sweet, inspiring story (about your hostel experience).

I'd have a mental list of food I'd be looking forward to!

Hope your op goes ahead.

My sons first Christmas. He was 3 months old, my first baby and we went to a big family gathering on dh's side. Baby wouldn't stop crying and everyone gave me all sorts of advice, when essentially my baby didn't want to be held by lots of different random people and just wanted to breastfeed. Mil was especially annoyed that I stopped eating my lunch to go and pick him up when he was crying, and went on and on about leaving babies to cry. God it was a horrible day.

I've had flat-out full-on shivering in bed for a week flu twice in my life.

Both times it has started on Christmas Eve.

We had floods a power cut once but that was actually not too bad. I drove into town and along the burst river, it was different but not too bad.

Mum liked to get pissed up, pass out and bleed everywhere which made me hysterical one year thinking she was going to die.

The worse Christmases are the ones that you have a ideal picture in your head and it doesn't work out perfect

Some sad stories on this thread 😢
Despite my dad being an abusive narcissist I actually had fantastic Christmas's as a kid, only for to the fact that my mums family all got together and as my dad was outnumbered it was fantastic, lots of food, presents and booze (for adults), board games with my cousins and always a Christmas or Boxing Day party with disco lights, hosted my mum mums twin sister. I used to adore Christmas as a kid.

Now they are shit, despite having kids, they are older now so the magic has gone, husband a grumpy old got, my beautiful mum is no longer here, the rest of her family either dead or live miles away, Christmas now makes me feel sad, old and lonely.

There was one where I had the flu as a child and puked everywhere when we got to my grandparents (mid 90s) and my parents didn't bring me any other clothes so I had to go to bed in my grandparents room naked and was asleep the entire Christmas Day and then. All of the following week