Heaving It For The Holidays!

It’s October and it time to hit the treadmill!

As the man and future men in my house hit the woods of the Upper Peninsula and Northern Michigan this fall, I too, have an autumn tradition. I attempt (note the word ‘attempt’, which loosely translated from the original Latin scrolls means, ‘was going to hit the gym one morning after drinking too much coffee and having a false sense of confidence and possible sugar-initiated energy boost from using an extra hazelnut cream packet’) to lose the twenty pounds that I intend to gain from eating over the holidays.

It is a queer practice to be certain. Why not just eat less during the festive season? Make sure you take one less piece of nutty fudge, or pass over that extra load of sausage stuffing in order to keep yourself fit?  Why not pass on the fatty, deep-fried goodies? Pay no heed to the bacon-wrapped chestnut, bacon-wrapped tenderloin, bacon-wrapped bacon? Why not?

Why Not???? Because I do not WANT to! I LOVE eating over the holidays!  I love stuffing myself exactly like I love to stuff that holiday turkey!  Wrap it all in bacon I say! I would wrap myself in bacon if it weren’t so expensive and would make the dog go mad. Let loose! Cover it all in peppermint, chocolate goo, and baked marshmallows! Yowzah! (I should probably cut back on the caffeine.)

Eating light at the holidays should be a criminal offense. Seriously, anyone caught even whispering,“Oh gosh, I have to pass on dessert, sooooo stuffed” or “really, I cannot eat another meatball, they go right to my thighs” should be thrown into prison immediately.  I once saw someone bring their Jenny Craig meal to the holiday office potluck….I purposely sat next to her and tallied up my weight watcher points for my meal. “Three thousand and seventy-two”, I announced as I crunched on my Christmas tree made of rice crispies, M&M’s and butter cream. She literally drooled on the spot.That was wrong; I should not have had to torture that woman so horrifically during the Yuletide.  There are some things that are sacred and consuming fatty foods to commemorate the birth of Our Lord is one of them.

Holiday food is a little bit of heaven right here on earth.  Except for Egg Nog. Egg Nog is a product from hell inserted into the season from Lucifer himself. (My apologies to those who dwell in the darkness and enjoy Egg Nog, you do realize that there is something wrong with you. You simply cannot coat evil in nutmeg and call it good.)

Holiday fare has purpose beyond general yumminess. There is purpose behind the reason my relatives bring a freight car worth of appetizers to the annual Christmas party. Finger foods are perfect for shoving into your face to avoid awkward moments at family gatherings. I once crammed ten broccoli cheesy bites into my mouth while listening to my unlatched second cousin explain how she is financially supporting her almost-a-model-boyfriend in his pursuit to return to school for graphic arts (aka pin stripping custom vans). I had to dive into the  crab puffs when she explained why Fabio couldn’t make the party on account of having to spend the day with his two kids and baby mama by order of the DHS. (Okay, I confess, I also hit the spiked cider on that one too.) Aunt Nora's play by play herniated gall bladder surgery required serious bacon that may actually shorten my life span.

Regardless, my point is made. Eat up and be merry. It is the law.

Okay, have to run. Honest. I may try and hoof an extra mile in the spirit of an herbed cream-cheese ball shaped and formed to the likeness of Frosty.   

See you at the parties!!