The bad thing about everyone in my family recommitting themselves to healthy eating is that it makes it harder for me to buy them Christmas presents. In the past I could easily buy some bourbon chocolates or gourmet cheeses. One year I got my brother little chocolate bottles filled with alcohol. But this year those gifts would be as much sabotage as if I’d thrown wooden shoes into a mechanical loom. And what would we do without our mechanical loom? So instead I have to be thoughtful and think on what my loved ones would like. Bummer.
I’m sure there must be some healthy alternative food gifts (which I’m sure you all will tell me about), but I can’t see myself giving my brother a basket of clementines for Christmas. Maybe if I pulled out my Sharpie and drew faces on them, glued on some googly eyes and pinned little Santa hats and beards on the…nah. I think my arts and crafts skills have atrophied since my girl scout years. (I once sold over 200 boxes of girl scout cookies to frat boys when I lived in a small college town. Our googly eyes that year were funded by the freshman fifteen.)
Good health is certainly a better Christmas gift than a pound of walnut fudge. Too bad I can’t wrap it up in a pretty package and stuff it under the tree.