20 Nov 2010
I am sitting in my overstuffed chair and if I never get up it will be a day too soon. Even if I did, I do not know what I would do. Right now, breathing is zapping me of any energy I have left. It is so bad I have to coordinate thinking between breathing.
Thanksgiving dinner at the Parsonage was a tremendous success. If by success, you mean stuffing yourself so much that you can barely move.
The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage outdid herself with the cooking and I outdid myself in the fine art of consumption. That is why we are such a great team. We complement ourselves so very well. She is good in one thing and I am equally good in the thing related to that one thing.
As I sit here in my chair alternating between breathing and thinking, I am thinking on how much energy leads up to that one spectacular Thanksgiving Day dinner. And the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage spared no energy in the production of this year's extravaganza. In the middle of the table was a finely roasted turkey surrounded by all the condiments. If anything was missing on the table, nobody missed it.
Being the marital partner in this food frenzy, I spared no energy in consuming as much of the dinner fare as I possibly could. I must admit, even after sufficiently filled, my eating momentum carried me on to several more rounds of turkey. I know that third piece of pumpkin pie was not absolutely necessary. But oh, was it delicious.
Not one of those store bought pies that tastes more like cardboard then anything else, this was one of those homemade pies. Therefore, as not to insult the chef, I indulged in that third piece of pumpkin pie with as much relish as the first piece.
I really don't know how she does it, but the third piece tasted just as delicious as the first piece.
For 364 days out of the year, my wife oversees the diet program she thinks I'm on. It does me no harm for her to think so, and so I let her. She does not need to know how many Apple fritters I eat. But on this one day of the year, all dietary restrictions and oversight are thrown out the kitchen window. This is why they call it Thanksgiving day.
Some people refer to it as Turkey Day. I certainly do not give thanks to any old Tom Turkey and I'm suspicious of people who talk to turkeys anyway.
Getting back to my overstuffed condition, I'm trying to find someone to blame. I sure would like to blame my wife for being such the terrific cook she is. I made such a suggestion and she retorted with, "Well, you didn't have to eat everything on the table."
In a way, there is a small bit of truth in what she says. I did not have to eat everything on the table. In my own defense, I herewith confess that I did not eat everything on the table. What I did eat, however, I did so with exceptional gusto. Like the old saying, you only go around once in life. And after Thanksgiving dinner, I am more round than I was before.
Since I cannot blame my good wife for my overindulgence on Thanksgiving Day, I have decided the blame rests upon the other family members around the table. They certainly share a certain culpability. If we were not having so much fun around the table, I might have paid more attention to how much I was eating.
Also, and this is no small matter, someone either to my right or to my left was always asking to pass the turkey. Since I am such a man of manners, it would be bad manners on my part not to take a piece of turkey as it passed my way. If only they would not have passed it so much I may not have eaten so much.
I mumbled something like this to my wife who said, "Didn't you ever hear of self-discipline?"
I have heard of it but have never really applied it to the dinner table. Her inference, if I understood her correctly, was I need to use a little more self-discipline when it came to eating.
In going my rounds of blaming people for my present condition, I have struck out in every area. There does not seem to be any person for me to blame.
It was at this point when my wife came to my aid.
"Instead of trying to find someone to blame for overeating, why not go to the bathroom and look in the mirror."
Ha, there was something I did not think of. The mirror is responsible for all my overeating. What a relief to find someone, or something, to blame for my present condition. I never would have thought of the mirror, myself. But then, my wife should know.
I then thought of some Scripture."For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting."Galatians 6:8(KJV).
A little thought nudged me, if I was as indulgent in my spiritual life as I was in my physical life, I probably would be a much better person.