I went to a cookie exchange the other day. It was fun. Socially speaking. On the trying-to-stay-skinny-through-the-holidays front, however, it was disastrous. Possibly the single most disastrous event in the history of December dieting. Girls like me should never put themselves in the path of such temptation - we should know better.
The idea of a cookie exchange, is rather brilliant. Rather than one woman making dozens and dozens of different kinds of cookies to give away during the holidays, a bunch of women make dozens and dozens of one kind of cookie, go to a party, and exchange cookies. At this particular cookie exchange, we each brought twelve dozen - i.e. one hundred and forty-four individual - cookies.
Which means we each left with twelve dozen - i.e. one hundred and forty-four individual - cookies. To give away. Right.
I swear my intentions are honorable. Really - I always tell myself that this year will be different, and I'll actually give away all those cookies. But then I go to the party and SEE them. And SMELL them. And TASTE them.
Then I start plotting out ways to keep my family from knowing the cookies are in the house so I can eat every single one-hundred-and-forty-fourth one myself. It's like a cookie-eating sickness. And I contract it every year.
This year was bad. The level of badness is directly related to the scrumptiousness of the cookies presented at the cookie exchange. Can I just say that this year there were FOUR different varieties of chocolate peanut butter cookies? And carmelitas - made by two different people, meaning that I took home two dozen of them?
It was seriously way to much to ask of me. I tried to think of someone to give at least some of the cookies away to, but every time I started thinking about it, it was like I had a stupor of thought. The kind of stupor that immediately switched over to thoughts of carmelitas and peanut butter chocolate bars, and how good they were going to taste when I ate them. And then I'd go have a couple. Of each.
Thankfully, I was unable to keep my family in the dark about the cookies, so I was forced to share. For two nights we brought the cookie platter out for dessert, and during both days, I even gave out a few of the ones lower on the I-must-eat-you-or-die list to my cookie-loving children.
I ate the last two cookies for breakfast this morning. Thank goodness they're gone and I can get on with my life - now that all my jeans are suddenly feeling a little bit tighter. Good thing I don't believe my body could possibly have transferred ALL that directly into fat, or I'd be in trouble. I LOOK fatter, and I FEEL fatter, but I'm convinced that if I can just live (primarily) off of the cookie-calories I've stored up for the next few days, I should be fine. It's got to be mostly water weight anyway, right?
And I'm not eating a single Christmas treat of ANY kind until our families actual Christmas dinner. And (aside from issuing a warning against cookie exchanges to all women with zero self control like myself), that is what this post is primarily about. I have now declared to the world that I will abstain from goodies, and so I'll have to do it. And hopefully, if I'm super good, I'll find all that cookie-fat gone the next time I brave the bathroom scale.
Wish me luck!