You probably think I’m talking about the economy. Scaling back on gifts. Doing the craft thing to save money. Baking cookies instead of buying someone a tie or potholder. Nope. Not that. Not anything close.
I’m talking “scale” like in bathroom scale. I’m talking weight. I’m talking holiday buffets and the passing of the ‘douevres--spanakopita (homemade or from Costco, I don’t care) and mushroom triangles and rumaki (those bacon-wrapped scallops covered with brown sugar) and avocado jalapeña crab mushroom dip on buttery toasted baguette slices—that’s what I’m talking. I can pass on high-brow appetizers with a drizzle of truffle oil, but show me a cocktail wiener wrapped in a Pillsbury crescent or a miniature potato pancake with a dollop of sour cream, and my knees go weak.
What’s a person to do? Just last week I was discussing this with friends. Push back from the table they said. Push back from the table?! What if there is no table? And better yet, no chair? What if it’s a catered event and the staff are sashaying around twirling their silver trays under your nose with the deftness of an 8th week contestant on Dancing with the Stars? Do you slap your own hand? One must have the willpower of a blender missing its electrical cord not to imbibe in an eggnog smoothie when proffered in a shot glass with a teenie tiny piece of mint adorning the top.
And so. Ugh. I’m going to lose this battle of the bulge this holiday and most holidays. But I am going to make a New Year’s Resolution a little earlier than usual. I’m only going to eat hors d’oeuvres. Appetizers. Canapés. Period. The end.
And if it’s bigger than two bites, it will not pass these lips!
- The Party Girl
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