FINAL UPDATE: AITA for telling my sister she’s not allowed to bring her homemade food to Thanksgiving because her cooking is ruining the meal?

Thanksgiving dinner is officially over, and I genuinely don’t know where to start. I feel like I just lived through a fever dream of culinary chaos and family drama, and I need a moment to breathe before I can even process everything. My cousin and I are heading out for drinks to dissect all of it because honestly, what just happened deserves its own Netflix special. I’ll post photos later when I get home, but for now, let me try to give you the rundown.

So, my sister showed up earlier than expected, which I should’ve seen coming. She came in like a storm, carrying not just her three dishes but also this giant platter wrapped in foil, which she was clearly trying to make a big deal about. She immediately started rearranging the table, moving my dishes to the side so hers could “take center stage.” She even brought her own table runner and candles, saying something about “setting the mood for a creative dining experience.” I decided not to fight her on it because, at this point, I just wanted to get through the night without a blow-up.

Her Trio Experience was… well, let’s just say it was everything I feared and more. She started with a glittery sweet potato mash that somehow managed to taste like a mix of sugar and sand. The glitter wasn’t even edible glitter; it was craft glitter, which I didn’t realize until one of the kids said, “This is crunchy,” and I looked closer. Then there was the cranberry and oyster relish. Yes, oysters and cranberries. It looked like someone had spilled jam into clam chowder, and the smell alone was enough to make me lose my appetite. Finally, she brought a pumpkin curry casserole that had raisins in it for some reason and this weird fishy smell that clung to the air for way too long.

But the pièce de résistance was her “surprise centerpiece dish,” which turned out to be a turkey gelatin mold. Yes, she took ground turkey, mixed it with some kind of broth and seasonings, and turned it into a wobbly, translucent mold shaped like a turkey. She even garnished it with parsley and cherry tomatoes to make it “festive.” I wish I were kidding. The entire table went silent when she unveiled it, except for my cousin, who immediately started coughing to cover up what I’m pretty sure was a laugh.

Things hit their peak when my mom, who has been defending her this entire time, took one bite of the gelatin mold and just… froze. She didn’t say anything, but you could see the regret on her face. My sister, noticing the lack of enthusiasm, decided to go on this long speech about how Thanksgiving food is “too boring” and how she’s trying to “challenge our palates.” She even called my ham and mashed potatoes “uninspired,” which was rich coming from someone serving glitter sand potatoes.

The breaking point came when my aunt, who’s usually the peacekeeper, tried the gelatin mold and actually gagged. She tried to be polite about it, but my sister saw her reaction and completely lost it. She started yelling about how nobody in the family supports her and how we’re all “stuck in the past” with our “unoriginal food.” She even accused me of “sabotaging” her dishes by not hyping them up enough to everyone. At this point, half the table was trying not to laugh, and the other half was just staring at their plates, probably wondering how we got here.

My sister ended up storming out of the house, but not before saying something along the lines of, “You’ll regret not appreciating my vision when I’m famous!” She left most of her food behind, which my cousin and I quietly threw out after dinner. The rest of the night actually turned out pretty nice once the tension was gone. My dad’s emergency ham was a lifesaver, and everyone agreed that next year, we’re either going to a restaurant or just skipping Thanksgiving altogether.

So now I’m sitting here wondering how this even became my life. I’ll post photos later because you all need to see the turkey gelatin mold to believe it, but for now, I’m off to grab a drink (or three) with my cousin to laugh/cry over everything that went down. This Thanksgiving was truly something else, and I don’t know whether to feel relieved it’s over or brace myself for whatever fresh chaos my sister has planned for next year. Stay tuned for photos—it’s going to be worth it!