I gained five pounds over the Christmas holiday—and it’s all my wife’s fault. Really; it is. A few days before Christmas, she, code named “the Queen of Desserts,” went on a baking spree, producing a bodacious bevy of delectable desserts that would have put a bakery to shame.
Ah! So much to enjoy. So little time. What was I to do?
First, I attacked the Rice Krispie Treats; soft, tasty and good for you, too. After all, they’re made of cereal and cereal is good for you, ergo Treats are good for you. I don’t want to say that I ate them all — so I won’t.
The pecan bars, a personal favorite, caught my eye next. They were so rich, however, that I invoked a self-imposed two-a-day limit.
Then there were sugar cookies, puppy chow, chocolate chip cookies, macaroon kiss cookies, cheese fudge, ginger bread cookies, and a birthday cake for Jesus.
After all, Jesus is what Christmas is all about. It sounds a bit corny, but we even sing happy birthday to him. At some point, a light-hearted discussion ensues. I say that somewhere in the Bible it mentions Jesus likes yellow cake with lemon frosting; my wife assures me his preference is chocolate.
Anyway, until I dispatch the desserts, there is no chance I will lose the five pounds. Right now we are down to the gingerbread man cookies.
Wait, I want to be politically correct. Let me check. Yes, they are all men! How do I know? By comparing them to the icons on most public restrooms—none of these cookies are wearing dresses!
So, the gingerbread cookies are my least fave, but until they are properly dealt with (a euphemism for eaten), there is little chance of me losing my Christmas five.
Until then, happy snacking!
Do you like this post? Want to read more? Check out Peter’s book, Bridging the Sacred-Secular Divide: Discovering the Spirituality of Every Day Life, available wherever books are sold.
Peter DeHaan writes about biblical Christianity to confront status quo religion and live a life that matters. He seeks a fresh approach to following Jesus through the lens of Scripture, without the baggage of made-up traditions and meaningless practices.