I made the Christmas dinner this year, not at my place but at my mother's. My sister and BIL were there from out of town (about 2 hours away). BIL has a long history of being a control freak and rather PA about it. I've never been the one cooking for him before; usually if I spend it with them, it's been at their place and my sister does most of the work and panders to his wishes about when to eat. It's well known in our family that he likes to eat at 6 and he will claim he "can't" eat any later or he gets really ill.
So when we all meet at a restaurant for dinner, the reservation has to be at 6 PM or even earlier to make sure he eats by 6. To me this means I must cut whatever I'm doing short to meet that deadline for dinner. I've certainly used the "I'm afraid that won't be possible" line before and managed to get the deadline extended to 6:30, but in that case he's usually already ordered an appetizer and begun eating by the time everyone else arrives.
I might add that every single time we all get together I've had to rearrange my schedule, often at great inconvenience, to suit his whims, and I've put up with it in order to keep the peace with my sister, who bends over backwards to pander to him. It's been going on for years, and I've given up other things I wanted to be doing to make our schedules work (ie meet his demands so I can see my sister).
That was the background, and now the current topic: Christmas. As I mentioned I was doing the meal this time, including the shopping. I told my mother ahead of time that I sure as heck wasn't going to have it ready by 6, and my mother agreed, oh hell no, she hates eating at 6.
Two days before Christmas my sister emails me to ask if we can have dinner ready by 6, because BIL likes to eat early. I replied that I "couldn't eat that early", and our mother didn't want to either, but I'd be sure to time it for 7 and there would be snacks for anyone who couldn't last that long. Plus, as I was also doing all the shopping and prep, AND working right up to and including Christmas Eve, I wanted a brief respite on Christmas Day of maybe an hour or two to go for a walk rather than race up right after lunch to prepare dinner. She replied and said 7 was fine, and that they were looking forward to it.
I can't even tell you how much effort I put into shopping, selecting excellent ingredients, advance prep, making things from scratch for lunch and dinner and dessert. Not for him, but because I love doing it and making a fabulous meal. And I love turkey dinners and wanted it to be extra good. Especially since it would be the last one in my mother's place before she sells it and goes to a senior's home. I was pretty tired by Christmas Day and glad for that brief period of rest in the afternoon before starting to cook again.
Well I honestly tried, and I didn't do this on purpose, but there was a timing error with the turkey. I thought it would be cooked by 6:30 and we could take it out and do the gravy, etc., and carve and then eat at 7. But by that time the turkey didn't look remotely cooked and the thermometer confirmed that it was still going to be quite a while. BIL said rather pointedly, "I'm starving." And then kept stating how hungry he was, over and over, and how tired, and how he'd been so exhausted all day (while doing nothing) and that it was nearly his bed time. At one point I said out loud, "Hmm, everyone else seems to be managing OK." Then he said he had been just teasing us and didn't mind what time we had dinner. Then made more "jokes" about going to the local fast food outlet to pick up some dinner. I told him "jokingly" that he should go right ahead, and also "joked" that we could set up a children's table for him next year with some hot dogs and other easy to eat food. He laughed. Normally I'd have silently rolled my eyes and not "joked" like that but I have to say, having catered to his schedule for many years I was just done. Also, there were plenty of crackers and cheese out.
It reached the proper temperature by 7:30 and I wasn't cutting that beautiful turkey until it has rested 15 minutes (every good cook knows that meat needs to rest before carving, to preserve the juices). All that care and precision, not going to sabotage it by cutting it too soon. Besides, my sister and I were using that time to put the sides on the table which had been keeping warm in the oven, make gravy etc. Now he was jumping up and down, "starving" and grabbed a plate and said, "I'm going to have some of those mashed potatoes while I wait." He proceeded to take some potatoes and some of the stuffing and eat it while we were still in the kitchen scrambling to get dinner served.
We were all sat down to eat by 7:45 PM and the dinner was really, really good, and it was finally time for me to get some enjoyment out of it. He took a really small portion because he'd already had some mashed potatoes, finished really quickly, and then went on about how exhausted he was and that he'd need to get going soon because he wanted to get to bed. (Note, he is not sick, but as long as I've known him he's been "exhausted" from the get-go no matter what time of day). The rest of us were still eating. I had seconds. He sat there waiting acting patient but I felt I was being rushed through a meal I had worked very hard to prepare with a lot of care to make it extra good. Not once did he say anything like, "Oh, this is really good."
Main course ended and we went into the kitchen to get the dessert out. I know he wanted some dessert otherwise perhaps he would have left at that point, but when it was dished up he stated he had to take it to eat on the living room chair, because he was so tired.
Dessert was gobbled quickly and my mother went into the kitchen to rinse out a couple of items; by the time she came back, and this was within about 2 minutes of finishing dessert, he stood up and announced he needed to leave. Which meant my sister did too, even though I know she would have stayed on a bit.
And they left shortly after 8:30 PM with not a word of thanks from him for the dinner.
My mother was furious. I was furious. I didn't go to all that effort for accolades or to have anyone fall all over themselves thanking me; I did it because I enjoy it and also to make the dinner extra good for the last one in that home. But some kind of acknowlegement of my effort would be nice instead of moaning and complaining, grabbing food from the table before anyone else had sat down, and dashing off as soon as the last forkful was eaten. Or at least, you know, allow me to enjoy eating mine now that I was finally able to sit?
I had previously expressed to a friend that I was sure BIL would find a PA way to express his displeasure at not being served at the time he wanted (6 PM). Am I right in thinking that this is exactly what happened? Also, was it horribly awful of me to keep people waiting till 7:45? Like I said, I didn't do it on purpose; I followed all instructions for timing and it turned out to be wrong. I've been at plenty of dinners in people's homes where this sort of thing has happened, and never been in the presence of anyone who complained about it. It's just one of those things you suck up and make the best of it. I've also been at lots of dinners where the meal was served at 8 or 9 or even later. I'm just grateful for the hospitality and good food when it does get served.
Just wondering now if I should just straight up tell him I am angry with him or whether it was really rude of me to keep people waiting till 7:45 to eat. If that's the case I will just keep my mouth shut. Certainly not cooking for him again.