I can just picture the scene as I press send on the text to Rachel: “Yay! John, the Thrifts can make it” “Oh God, really?! But aren’t they all…y’know?” “Oh yeah, I totally forgot” *massive eye roll* “Oh God Rach, are we going to have to hide the honey? Will everyone have to drink quinoa? Will they bang on about sentient beings and make everyone else feel super awkward?” No John, we won’t. Because like any Mum out there, once I’ve spent the morning brushing the mass of tangles from my daughter’s hair while trying to convince her to wear the dress which doesn’t flash her knickers when she cartwheels, talking my son down from a two hour Fortnite session and stopping the dog from kissing the baby, I’ll be simply far too exhausted to chastise you and your dairy guzzling guests for their sucky culinary choices and will most likely head straight for the bottle opener to crack open a magnum of Whispering Angel, pray my white trousers stay stain free for more than five minutes and that my tribe don't break anything that can’t be treated with Calpol.
The thing is, although what I'm feeding my kids for their next meal, snack or bribe consumes MY every waking thought, I'm certainly not expecting my non-vegan friends and family to lose sleep over it, although many this summer apparently will. My neighbour admitted last year that they had a post-barbecue barbecue after we'd gone home just so they could get their dirty steaks out of their marinade and enjoy them without the bitter aftertaste of guilt which we would have liberally doused them with, had we still been there. It's only two years ago that we were doing the same so I do ‘get it’ to some degree — and believe me I had zero tolerance of anyone who had a life threatening nut allergy, let alone a moral standpoint. So, with this in mind, I got thinking about how we can ensure that my clan and I don't miss out on all the BBQ lols this summer, without compromising our position as completely awesome vegans.