Friendly Dinnertime turned Political

So, this weekend we had some friends over for dinner. It will be fun we said. Things will be great we said. Yeah, well, kinda.  The first to arrive was the oldest male part of the family, we will call him ‘Douche’ for anonymity sake.  So Douche is chit chatting away and knowing that the family is in a bit of turmoil, I just go with the flow. My partner (K1, because he is) and I have been friends with Douche for 35+ years since elementary school and they have been pretty close forever so I kindly kicked them outside to grill while I prepped food inside and waited for the better half and kiddos to arrive.

Within a relatively short period of time, ‘Ms Patient’ (again, for anonymity sake) arrives with kiddos in tow. We talk for a bit and I explain that the boys are talking and hopefully some positive vibes come from this. All is well, kiddos are playing, Ms Patient and I are chatting about all things family, school, and work. Then, Douche and K1 step inside to see what the women folk are up to. Somehow, the presidential candidate issue comes up and in a lighthearted tone, I say who I believe might be a good fit for our country in trouble. Instantly, Douche goes from gollyish to holy fucking douchiness in .002 seconds.

Instinctively, from dealing with douchebaggery sorts many times before, I tried to maintain a calm demeanor and change the subject. Nope. Fail. Douche is bound and determined that by telling me I am an ignorant idiot and my personal opinions on the matter are fucking nuts and I should reevaluate my stance on the matter.  I slowly and surely explain that my opinion is my opinion and he does not need to have it, however in MY house, he should be respecting said opinion. Within the same breath I asked that we change the subject to something much more suited to a family atmosphere. The ranting continued and I kindly said that he was indeed being a douche and I would not listen further and walked away. Thankfully, K1 was smart enough to keep Douche in the kitchen while I chilled my Irish temper with a nice Merlot in the living room with some coloring and kiddos.

Timers went off, boys came in from the grill, food was dolled out, and somber dinner atmosphere was had. Shortly after Ms Patient suggested the kiddos needed bedtime and they should be heading out. No apologies were uttered. Hugs were passed out, and tiny faces kissed. Good-byes and next times were spoken and then it was done. Political Pie Chart

The questions at the end of this tiny/not tiny tale is this: How do you handle those that want to talk politics, but will not tolerate someone with a different opinion then their own?  How would you have handled this situation?

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