The season of temptation is once more upon us, and like most years, I am failing dramatically. Usually I get a little further in before I undergo a complete collapse, but this year I started early.
The season of temptation is that period of the year that starts somewhere in mid-October when you buy your fist bag of Halloween candy in preparation for trick-or-treaters. In many homes, that bag actually lasts until October 31st. In my house, we stopped pretending long ago that the first bag of candy was ever going to be seen by kids. We live in an area that doesn’t even get trick-or-treaters, so seriously, who were we trying to fool?
The season then drags out through the next two and a half months, through Thanksgiving and Christmas, and not really coming to an end until halfway through January when the last of the Christmas candy and baked goods finally run out. In that window of time, I usually see about a fifteen-pound weight gain. I have enough difficulty not overeating on normal days. When holiday cookies and pies start showing up, I’m done for.
People tell me that surviving the holiday season is simply an exercise in self-control. Well, as anyone who has ever seen me knows, I’m not really that into exercise in any form. Especially not the kind that requires self-control.
I spend the other nine months of every year simply trying to lose enough weight to be able to survive my holiday food compulsions. I say ‘trying’ because I have rarely accomplished those goals. Usually, I lose about five pounds, then get so excited I reward myself by consuming an entire box of Lucky Charms in one sitting. The milk is optional, as is the bowl.
This season of temptation has started out worse than most. I suppose since it’s 2020, this shouldn’t have been a surprise. Everything this year seems to be worse than most. This year, being trapped at home, my daughters have suddenly gotten the urge to make sugary baked treats. They’ve never cared about baking before, but now, for reasons unknown to me, they have decided that sugar, butter, and flour are the main staples of life.
It began in early October, when EM2 told me she wanted to make a pineapple upside down cake. She has never seen a pineapple upside down cake before, much less made one, but now she decided if she didn’t bake one in the next couple of days, her life was about to become meaningless. So, we baked a cake. Later EM1 told me I needed to help her make six dozen pumpkin spice cookies. Not to be outdone, EM2 immediately informed me we would be making six dozen sugar cookies the next day.
Halloween came and went, but not before EM2 made crème puffs filled with chocolate pudding, and a dozen lime flavored, mini cheesecakes. EM1 added two dozen Halloween decorated cupcakes into the mix.
We haven’t even begun to make a dent in all those high-calorie sweets and EM2 has already made me promise that we will try to make a cherry pie before the end of November. I have never made a cherry pie before and, frankly, never intended to try, but because I’ve been unexpectedly sucked into this self-propelled vortex of baked goods, I will be attempting to bake a cherry pie in the near future.
I’ll let you know how it goes. I’m anticipating it won’t go smoothly, which might be a good thing because if the pie turns out completely inedible that will be one less item increasing my waistline this year.
In addition to the cherry pie, I have also been locked into the commitment of making two pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving. This is a Thanksgiving, I must add, that we might not be having any guests over due to the current pandemic conditions in the state of California. This means that there will only be four of us eating both of these pumpkin pies. And my wife doesn’t like pumpkin pie, so make that three of us.
And as soon as Thanksgiving baked goods are done, Christmas candy and chocolates are just around the corner. I’m already having heart palpitations thinking about the amount of sugary foods still ahead of me over the next six weeks or so, and my pancreas has been threatening to go on permanent strike if I don’t find a way to corral this snack assault.
I know that not eating isn’t an option. As I’ve already admitted, I have no self-discipline to speak of. I’ve never been able to walk past a plate of cookies without picking up one or four. I suppose I could try working out to burn off some of these extra calories, but who am I kidding? There aren’t enough hours in the day to burn off the amount of junk food I’m consuming this time of year. I would have to live in a gym and sleep on a treadmill to have any hope of keeping up.
With those options off the table, I only have one more weapon in my arsenal to get through the next six weeks without suffering serious lateral growth complications.
Alcohol.
I have discovered that I tend not to eat as much when I’m passed out on the kitchen floor. Besides, a bottle of gin has fewer calories than half of a pumpkin pie. Maybe I need to explore this tactic in a little more detail.
I think I might actually have the willpower to stay on this diet plan. I only need to keep the liquor cabinet well stocked and the unwanted pounds should melt right off.
I wonder why I haven’t tried this before. Or maybe I have, and it worked so well I don’t remember?
Anyway, if nobody hears from me in the next two months, don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m just sticking to my new diet.
.
.
.
Enjoying Deep Dark Thoughts? Follow me on Facebook so you don’t miss a post. Just go to my page and click the “Like” button to receive updates on my blog and other projects.
And you can follow me on Twitter @gallenwilbanks.