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Marriage, parenting, family drama — someone's gotta say what we're all thinking, and Joseph Tito is just unhinged enough to do it. Every week Joseph — gay dad of twin girls, bestselling author, and a menace with a microphone — reads your messiest letters and torches the villains with savage wit, brutal honesty, and just enough heart to remind you you're not alone in the chaos. From husbands who treat wives like free secretaries with dental benefits, to in-laws who think love has a rulebook, nothing is safe from the roast. Therapy meets stand-up meets that friend who's three glasses of wine deep and finally telling the truth. Send your mess to betweenthecoversmag.com. This is Joseph Tito — and I bitch so you don't have to.
Some people host Thanksgiving once and spend the next twelve months checking whether you're still grateful. You thank them at the table. You thank them at the door. You sent the text when you got home. Then it's fucking Easter.
Joseph Tito:Well, when I did Thanksgiving. Oh my god. Again? Was it dinner or did you pull us out of a burning building? Because I enjoyed the potatoes, but I didn't realize we'd be observing the anniversary.
Joseph Tito:Welcome to Bitch Fest.
Theme song:Welcome to the Bitch Fest. Sisterhood Supreme. Sip that tea, spill the shade, hear our sassy dreams. Yes. I'm a mic, this phone mic, we're loud and unfiltered.
Theme song:Stay tuned, hon.
Joseph Tito:I'm Joseph Tito, King City, Ontario. Thanksgiving is coming, and I'm already working out how to feed nine people like we're expecting the other seven to arrive by helicopter. I know I make too much. I know. But what if there isn't enough is louder in my head than any evidence that there has always, in the history of my fucking house, been enough.
Joseph Tito:And then I need feedback. Immediately. You've barely closed your mouth. How is it? You're chewing.
Joseph Tito:Is it dry? Still chewing. Because I thought it looked dry. Now you're swallowing turkey you haven't properly chewed because apparently we're doing my emotional needs before your digestive ones. I can already hear my girls.
Joseph Tito:Delicious, papa! I haven't served it yet. We know. We're getting ahead. And God help the person who reaches for the salt.
Joseph Tito:I'll say nothing. Nothing. But I saw it. I saw your little hand. So please understand, I am approaching today's subject as a deeply unwell member of the hosting community.
Joseph Tito:Two women wrote in from Vaughan. One had a guest refuse her cooking, the other has spent ten years trying to get custody of a sundae. And somewhere in both these families is a husband saying, Can we not make this a thing? It's already a thing babe. Your wife has written to a podcast.
Joseph Tito:We've passed the thing.
Theme song:Bitch vests on, honey spill
Theme song:that tea, shoe bop dish the dirt can party with me.
Joseph Tito:First Letter She Wants To Stay Anonymous A woman from her husband's side came for dinner, brought one side dish and ate only that. When the host offered her some of the other food, she made a face. Nose up. Disgust. The host writes, I'm not a great cook, but I'm decent.
Joseph Tito:Then she says she ignored the face and packed the woman a large doggy bag. Of the food she hadn't eaten. Sorry, go back. She wouldn't eat it, so you gave her more? For what?
Joseph Tito:A second opinion? Take the potatoes to someone you trust. What was the plan? Maybe once the turkey gets out of Vaughan, it'll open up? And please tell me you used an old margarine tub.
Joseph Tito:Please. Because if you sent that bitch home with your good glass container, we have another problem. Now you have to contact her again. Hi. Hope you're well.
Joseph Tito:Just wondering if you're finished with. Finished with what? She never started! And you know how that conversation ends. Oh, was that yours?
Joseph Tito:Was it mine? You think I catered your departure in a complimentary fucking casserole dish? Bring it back. Empty. I don't need to see how little progress you've made.
Joseph Tito:And listen, bring whatever you need to eat. Honestly, if you need your own food, bring it. Have a lovely evening. But why the face? You've got your dinner, you're safe.
Joseph Tito:Nobody is coming over the table with a ladle. Would you like some turkey? And she's looking at the platter like you've asked her to identify a body. It's poultry, sweetheart. You can say no thank you.
Joseph Tito:You don't have to give the carrots a reason to go home and cry. The part I can't stop picturing is the host packing the bag. Because even that would take time. You've already cooked, you've served, you've watched her insult it, now you're standing at the counter going, do you think she'd want gravy separately? No.
Joseph Tito:I think she wants to leave.
Theme song:Bitch vest, some honey spill that tea,
Theme song:shoe bock dish, the dirt can party with me.
Joseph Tito:And this is probably an excellent moment to mention the people who can stop you spending two days cooking for somebody who brought an emergency zucchini. This episode is brought to you by Savor Us Catering in Vaughan. Elvira and her team cater across the GTA and we used Elvira for my mom and dad's fiftieth anniversary. So I actually know the food. And yes, letting somebody else cook can be difficult for an Italian family.
Joseph Tito:You're worried someone will find out. Like the lasagna is gonna talk. You can hear the interrogation already. Did you make this? No.
Joseph Tito:Oh. And that 'O' will somehow make it to three different houses before dessert. Let them talk. You gotta sit down. Nobody has ever taken a bite and said, Beautiful.
Joseph Tito:I can really taste that you've been standing since Thursday. Savor Us Catering. Vaughan Serving the GTA. There's 5% off your first order in the BTC Magazine app. The app is free.
Joseph Tito:App Store or Google Play, search BTC Magazine. The code is there. Tell Elvira I sent you. Then sit down while the food is still hot. See what that feels like.
Theme song:Now,
Joseph Tito:Susie. Susie said we could use her name. Susie has reached the point where consequences sound refreshing. For ten years, her mother-in-law has booked the preferred holiday dates before anyone else gets a chance: Thanksgiving Sunday. Then Monday as well: Christmas Eve.
Joseph Tito:Meanwhile, Susie's brother has his own in laws to coordinate with. Sunday is the day her family can get together and somehow her family always gets whatever's left. She tried arguing. It caused fights. So she stopped.
Joseph Tito:And after all of this, the mother-in-law still says she doesn't get enough time. What time do you want? You have both days. Are you trying to get into Tuesday? The children have school.
Joseph Tito:I just never see them. You've been feeding them since Saturday. They've got slippers at your house. And I love the idea that announcing something first means the discussion is over. We're doing Sunday.
Joseph Tito:Okay. I'm announcing I'm spending winter in Italy. Apparently, we can just say shit and the family has to arrange itself around it. Nobody told me. I've been checking availability like an idiot.
Joseph Tito:You know the holiday group chat. One person says, what works for everyone? Lovely question. Then the longest message you've ever seen arrives. Who's working?
Joseph Tito:Who's driving? Who can only do lunch? Who has the children? Who had everyone last year? You need a pen.
Joseph Tito:You're scrolling back up. Wait, is this Sunday this week or the holiday Sunday? Somebody's answered a question from nine messages ago. One uncle sends a thumbs up. To what, Frank?
Joseph Tito:What have you agreed to? Then the mother-in-law arrives. Sunday, 02:00 at mine. And the husband hearts the message. Of course he does.
Joseph Tito:He hasn't checked with his wife, he doesn't know what the children are doing, but his mother has said there will be food and his thumb has made a commitment. Now Susie has to ring her own family. Could we maybe do another day? Which day? Your mother-in-law has taken the holiday, your brother's working, the kids are at school.
Joseph Tito:What are you offering them? Wednesday at eleven? Happy Thanksgiving. Eat quickly. I parked in a loading zone.
Joseph Tito:And why does Christmas Eve belong to somebody who, according to Susie, barely even does Christmas? What happens there? Do you all sit around waiting for the twenty fifth to happen somewhere else? You can't keep the best night because you like knowing nobody's at the other grandmothers. That is a very expensive evening to spend checking where people aren't.
Joseph Tito:Then comes the husband. That's just how she is. Yes, we've had ten years to learn the format. We're asking what you're doing. Just tell her we can't.
Joseph Tito:Oh, I'm telling her? Your mother? Interesting. When she wants to know what you'd like for your birthday, you can speak directly. But the second she needs to hear no, suddenly I'm communications.
Joseph Tito:And please don't do that little side conversation where you blame your wife. Susie wants to do her family this year. Congratulations. You've made your wife sound like a woman who wandered into your life and canceled your mother. Try we.
Joseph Tito:We've made plans. Tiny word. You managed it when we bought the house.
Theme song:Bitch vest on, honey spill that tea,
Theme song:shoe bop dish, the dirt can party with me.
Joseph Tito:And I'm aware I sound very confident. Give me one disappointed, okay then on the phone, and I'd probably offer to host both families, cook two turkeys, and pick everybody up. Then sit in my own driveway, furious at commitments I volunteered for. That's the embarrassing part. And listen, I get the other side of it too.
Joseph Tito:I spend two days cooking and everybody gets up after twenty minutes. I peeled things for this. At least look tired. What do you mean you're full? Joseph, that was the activity.
Joseph Tito:Sometimes nobody even has to ask again. They go quiet and we start adding services. I can bring dessert! Silence. And wine!
Joseph Tito:Silence. Do you need a ride? At what point am I also cleaning your gutters? Here's what I actually think. The woman who brought her own food can eat her own food.
Joseph Tito:You can stop offering. Everybody survives. And Susie and her husband can choose a day together and tell both families what they're doing. Someone may be disappointed, someone may do the sigh. Let the sigh finish.
Joseph Tito:You don't have to fill it with an offer to drive to Woodbridge. Because most of us do want to see our families. We want the food, the noise, the stupid story we've heard 11 times. We just want to get through one holiday without discovering that accepting gravy means we've agreed to Christmas. Quick thing before I go.
Joseph Tito:My memoir, The Dad Diaries, is out now. It's the story of how I became a father to my girls and everything it took to get there. Signed copies are at thedaddiaries.com. It's also available on Amazon and Indigo. And download the free BTC Magazine app.
Joseph Tito:That's where you'll find the Sabre Us offer and it's where you can send in the family drama you apparently can't discuss in your own group chat. Probably wise. Frank will just give it a thumbs up. Now, if you're hosting Thanksgiving this year, I hope the food is lovely. I hope people help.
Joseph Tito:I hope somebody else figures out where the chairs are instead of asking you while you're holding a boiling pot. And I hope you get thanked. Properly. At the table. At the door.
Joseph Tito:Maybe a nice text afterwards. Then we're done. If I see you in February, I'm allowed to ask how you are without first mentioning the fucking turkey. And if you're coming to my house? Eat what you like.
Joseph Tito:Come when we've agreed, take some leftovers. But bring back my container. I will apparently forgive a lot of family behavior, but I am not spending January trying to close a glass dish with the wrong fucking lid. This is Joseph Tito, and I bitch so you don't have