Fat Chance

I started eating on Thanksgiving Day and I haven't stopped.

Correction: I did stop---to go to the bathroom, and to breathe---barely.

I remember having a routine physical seven or eight years ago, sometime in mid-November. My doctor said everything was fine, but that I could drop a few pounds.

Sure, who couldn't stand to lose some weight?

But notice the first sentence, two paragraphs above. The checkup took place in mid-November.

You think I'm losing weight from mid-November through the New Year?


My wife won't agree with me, but I put partial blame on her. She's an Italian-Polish woman who can cook circles around you, which means that her dishes aren't exactly to be confused with anything Lean Cuisine would come out with.

So yeah, I blame her, a little. I mean, she cooks so GOOD.

So we started eating on Thanksgiving Day at our house, like the rest of the country. But we pressed on, long after the leftover hot turkey sandwiches and my traditional turkey soup had been consumed. It seems like we've been on a slippery slope into a vat of lard ever since.

Right after the turkey was gone, here came the hectic holiday season, with its shopping and LOTS of ordering takeout.

Takeout was a main option because my wife was either too darn tired to cook, or was inside a mall right around dinner time.

We did it all---subs, chicken, Taco Bell, burgers, Chinese, pizza, you name it. It got to the point that it was literally impossible to say, "You know, I could really go for _________, because we haven't had it in a while."

Then it was time for holiday baking---cookies and the like. And, don't you know, someone had to eat that stuff up, too.

Before you knew it, Christmas Eve was here, and that meant Honeybaked Ham. Christmas dinner was a beef tenderloin (cooked by my mother), and then it was right back to the leftover ham, and its sides: Italian mushrooms cooked in water and oil; green bean casserole; potato salad (my wife makes the best, hands down); yams; and rolls. Dessert was pecan pie and lemon meringue pie.

It was Thanksgiving, Part II.

The ham bone was used to make my wife's delicious Pasta Fagioli, a vat of which was made, and that I'm still eating, but I don't care because I love it.

Just when we got rid of the ham, it was time for New Year's Eve, and that meant a trip to Antonio's Italian Market at 17 Mile and Ryan for a slew of lunchmeats, cheeses, olives, and breads. Oh, and later that night---shrimp with cocktail sauce, and two spreads for crackers: crab and clam.

Pasta Fagioli, a.k.a Beans and Macaroni

Followed, naturally, by our traditional New Year's Day feast of homemade lasagna---with cheesecake for dessert.

The lasagna is just about gone. The Pasta Fagioli is still hanging around, stubbornly.

So it's a new year and I can finally stop eating---or at least come up for air.

And remind me never to schedule a physical in November again. It's just a waste of doc's time, and breath.


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