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We have mashed our potatoes, glugged our gravy, watched the Dallas game and taken on the immeasurable burden of a third slice of pie, limiting ourselves to a miniature scoop of ice cream to make up for it.
Now, we are wandering around a mall, exclaiming how we can’t believe it, but we’re hungry again. Our leftovers will have to wait for dinner; at present, we realize pizza will best help us express our burgeoning holiday spirit. We enjoy Chinese chicken sample appetizers and plan which candy bars to have grinded into our ice cream for dessert. It’s all part of turning jolly.
This is an effort to which I apply myself wholeheartedly, though, generally, not at the mall because I don’t make that kind of money.
My kitchen, however, contains food I have already purchased – in massive quantities. This is no time to spend less than $100 on a trip to Whole Foods. This is Hanukkah, Christmas, New Year’s – and each special day requires its own specific regiment of overeating.
This is winter, when I am only warm when I’ve got something in the oven, and when I pray that sit-ups delete cookies in a one-to-one ratio.
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