Twelve Days of CarbFest

I have a love/hate relationship with food, in that I love to eat it and I hate when I can't. I think it's safe to say that by this point in the yuletide festivities, most of us have shoved the skinny jeans to the back of the closet, right behind the acid washed Jordache ones you're still hoping will come back in style. Since Turkey Day and all its gravy coated wonder, I've been opting for roomier options since I am afraid anything fitted might pop a button and potentially put out some unsuspecting bystander's eye. This time of year, it's even beyond hard to bend over and tie your shoes (Oh wait? Is that just me?). Whilst sitting here in my elastic waistband pants, I happen to feel that it was worth every bite.

Perusing a magazine in the grocery store checkout line, I read that the average American gains just one pound over the holidays. As usual, I am way above average. How awesome for me. I was telling a freau (pronounced "fro"--that's my term for an ex-beau who is now a friend) that this time of year is so hard on the diet. "Cut out the carbs," he said. "All they do is make you tired and puffy, anyway."

Let me assure you when he said "you," that boy was using a generalization. I never let freaus see me looking tired and/or puffy, so I know that comment was in no way directed at yours truly. I very quickly assured him that carbs make me feel warm, cozy, giddy, euphoric and full. They do not make me tired. And if I am dragging a bit, there is an easy explanation: cold, flu, insomnia, carbon monoxide poisoning, vitamin deficiency, boredom, stress, over caffeination, under caffeination, exhaustion, sleep apnea, tranquilizer dart...anything but carbs. My precious carbohydrates would not do that to me. Our love runs both ways, I can feel it.

And so, with my Cheetoh stained fingers, I have created a little ode to my beloveds to the tune of the Twelve Days of Christmas. Rather than being repetitive, I skipped right to the last day with all the marbled rye--oops--marbles. Now, twelve days is just a suggestion; it's the holidays so you go right on loving those goodies all month long, right into the New Year. Do not stop on my account. No carb left behind!

The Twelve Days of CarbFest

 

On the twelfth day of CarbFest, my true love Channing Tatum sent to me:

 

Twelve doughnuts glazing,

Eleven french fries frying,

Ten buttered biscuits,

Nine Belgian waffles,

Eight cakes a-baking,

Seven pints of ice cream,

Six chips a-dipping,

Five onion rings,

Four waffle cones,

Three french bread pizzas,

Two turtle brownies,

And a big bowl of spaghetti.

 

 

Ah, what a happy little tune. Feel free to sing with your mouth full. And I promise to practice what I preach, er, sing. One final note: I love them all, but the couch potato will always be my favorite. Viva la carb!