Surprisingly, there are people out there that consider this a meal, and many of them won't even finish this. I don't know them, and they are not family or friends of mine.
The people I know consider this assortment of goodies justifiable rewards for eating the turkey, ham, stuffing, sweet potatoes, etc., that go along with the holiday season. It is that time of year when 99.8% of Americans start looking for their fat pants. Liar, I know you have them.
For me, this time of year is even harder to keep the weight off, because, along with the holidays, and the holiday parties, I have four birthdays in ten days to celebrate with cupcakes and cake. Throw in a couple more birthdays in December, and company coming in town for few days, and I may need to go out and buy myself some "extra fat" pants.
Mia Madre turns ninety on Monday as she finally reaches midlife. We'll celebrate with some cupcakes to start things off slowly this season. When Lindas' mom turns ninety-three on the following Sunday, we will likely do the same.
Of course in between those two days will be Thanksgiving where pumpkin, and apple pie, will be served, and consumed, in mass quantities. If you are keeping score at home, by the start of December we will be eating a dozen cupcakes, twice, and two pies in like eight days.
Now the real sweet fest begins.
Cake, cookies, drinks, and massive amounts of food will be around, and eaten, over the next 31 days. My stomach hurts already just thinking about how much weight I'm going to gain. (Are there fat shoes too?) Every year I tell myself that I need to stay socially distanced from the table and cake, and every year I act like this will be my last week on earth, as I consume everything in sight.
My self control is completely disabled during this season and I turn into this.
And that is just lunch today.
I was hoping that the tooth removal, Tuesday, would slow me down and I might lose ten quick pounds before the trouble started, but I lasted about six hours, and spent most of yesterday eating the bad chocolate chip cookies I made Sunday. (Who ruins chocolate chip cookies? This guy does.)
I usually give up hope by early December, and this year looks to be an even quicker white flag wave. When I met with my cardiologist recently, he, once again, told me he would like to see me eat less, exercise more, and lose fifteen pounds. Once the nurse and I stopped laughing I asked him what his second choice was.
Look, anybody that thinks they are going to lose weight over the next seven weeks is even more delusional than a certain guy at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. It isn't going to happen, so you might as well just enjoy the ride up the scale. Think of it as your gift to yourself for all the sacrifices you've made this year due to the Covid virus.
If you feel guilty, or if your pants start to get a little tight, either take a couple days to go walking for thirty minutes, or do what I plan on doing, get bigger pants.