Gee, thanks, family, for thinking of me.
Every time we get together, we always do something I hate. I'm SO glad we decided to do something for New Year's that I can actually enjoy, too. /sarcasm
Mom, shut up. Going to Oma's house to play kiddie games with some brats is not my idea of fun. It's not even something I could tolerate. Eating pigs in a blanket, dipping fruit in the melted baking chocolate I bought for my use, wearing elaborate feathered masks that are my keepsakes from ages ago (and probably ruining them because they are delicate and NOT for bratty little children with chocolate all over their fingers), and wearing pajamas while doing it all is NOT my idea of fun. In fact, I would rather stay home by myself, watching over our INJURED dog and making sure he can eat and drink and go outside to pee without collapsing.
OH WAIT, THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I'M DOING.
And you wonder why I do my damnedest to avoid saying those three little words, "I love you?" Because you steal my stuff, completely ignore my poor, poor dog, and try to get me to participate in "fun."
Stop trying to goad me into something I have told you multiple times over the past few hours that I Do. Not. Want. To. Do.
Stop acting like it's some big joke, and I'll eventually decide to come with you because I just can't possibly deny any longer that it won't be OMG SO FUN.
IT'S NOT FUN. Stop trying to force your crap on me and give me back my stuff! *RAAAAAAAAAGE*