Sweet Wars
It’s upon us. Healthy eaters beware.
(Stand by eager kale eaters. There’s no way in organic, all-natural, potassium and bromide-enriched kelp this will affect you. But sorta healthy eaters who skip every other dessert and see a veggie on a daily basis, look alive.)
It’s that time of year again.
The assailants have already come on strong.
The pumpkin pies and their pecan countrymen have already descended in full attack, hurtling their merciless Cool Whip missiles in an unholy rain of sugar – and whatever passes as dairy in the secret recipe. (Don’t ask, soldier. It will only crush your spirit.)
Hot cocoa and the sticky marshmallow cavalry have arrived. Ambush is imminent. And boy, does it smell sweet.
And in the distance is the warm, rosy glow of brightly lit houses with smoking chimneys. You can bet gingerbread and sugar cookies lie in wait, their peppermint candy canes raised at the ready.
Don’t turn your traitorous nostrils to the left, or you might catch the upwind of those themed holiday drinks. The lowering in esteem of that one coworker who just drinks “regular” coffee is nothing compared to the addictive persuasion of eggnog and chai – and the twin sisters of terror: cinnamon and nutmeg.
They’ll come in with their sneak attacks, with the glisten of each fresh snowfall, beckoning you to curl up with a fresh cup of sugary, satisfying joy. Resist!
They’ll get you out in the open, in the innocent guise of a candy bowl, a tray of decorated brownies, a “gift” from a “loved one.” Hold firm!
And if you’re blessed with the crackle of a natural fire, do not be lulled into complacency. The life-giving warmth can be traitorous. The same flame that nourishes encourages temptation. Do not go gently into that warm firelight!
It’s officially holiday season. And this means war.
The odds are stacked against us, but we’ll have to soldier on.
It’s a long, treacherous month of holidays and delights for all kinds of folks. And while the road may be a miserable path to a hopeless victory, we’re in good company together.
Man the defenses, cast your eyes to the horizon, brandish your flash-frozen carrots.
We can take them.
So you take the gumdrops, the peppermint, and the figgy pudding and I’ll take the gingerbread and Ferrero Rochers lurking under the bow.
‘Cause, pal, we are losing this war. And we’re gonna lose HARD and WELL.
But as we settle in for a long winter’s nap, defeated, bloated, but probably quite satisfied in a chips and soda stupor (the sweets will have been long gone) at 1 a.m. this December thirty-first, we’ll already be planning next year’s revenge.
Get your beauty sleep, kale eaters. We’ll need you for the reconnaissance mission.