I’m not entirely sure why they call gluttony one of the seven deadly sins. I was gluttonous last night. I’m still here.
Let’s face it folks. I love to eat. I love to eat everything that is not good for you to eat. If the food is about comfort, sign me up. Salad is good but it won’t do what chocolate cake will do. You can only eat so much chicken-of-the-sea and if I open one more can I’m going to hack up a tuna.
The fact of the matter is I’ve been dieting for the last several weeks. I’ve lost around 40 pounds since the summer. Truth be known I could stand to lost about another 40 pounds.
If Thanksgiving was once a month I’d never make it. Holiday eating is as American as Baseball and Jazz. You might as well rename Christmas to the National Celebration of Gluttony. Long live chocolate covered cherries and egg nog. A fruit cake in every basket – a turkey in every stocking.
There just seems to be a global obsession with food every December. It even works its way into the songs we sing. (You could make a game of it by guessing the correct song.)
- Eight maids a milking
- Oh, bring us a figgy pudding and a cup of good cheer
- It’s a marshmallow world in the winter
- Your brain is full of spiders – you’ve got garlic in your soul
- Everybody knows a turkey
- Now the goose is on the table and the pudding made of pig
- Later we’ll have some pumpkin pie and we’ll do some caroling
- Chestnuts roasting on an open fire
- I’ve bought some corn for popping
So it’s not just me, although I to tend to get more than my fair share around the feast. Gluttony is a national pastime, just like baseball. The prolification of Big & Tall stores should be all the evidence needed of expanding waistlines everywhere.
The diet is officially on hold until January. Slice me off a sip of that fruitcake.