Impact Columnist: Staying fat over Christmas

Christmas is almost upon us and I’m already looking a little chubby around the edges. I’m not a massive fan of this time of year, not going to lie. I am, however, a massive fan of food. LOTS of food.

Websites and magazines will try to convince you to “Stay Slim Over the Holidays with our 5 Simple Tips!” However, I say “no – let me be fat”. I will eat your apples (‘Eat an apple if you’re craving chocolate! They taste exactly the same!’) for the rest of the year but not now. Not at Christmas. There is free food at Christmas. It’s hanging on the Christmas tree, it’s sitting in tiny dishes in your Aunty’s house. It’s everywhere. Frankly, it would be a poor economical decision to pass up those tasty, tasty treats which your nan offers you on Christmas Eve.

I am not a medical healthcare professional, nor do I profess to be one (except when I’m drunk. But then who doesn’t, amirite?), but Christmas food tastes so much better than all other food so I’m going to eat it all. If eating an entire wheel of cheese is wrong then I don’t want to be right.

I’m not saying that eating a delicious Christmas pudding for breakfast is the right choice for you, but I’m also not not saying that it’s the right choice. If a delicious pudding presents itself to you then honestly who are you to say, ‘No! No pudding! Today I shall dine on raw carrots and dust!’ Quite the opposite – you should say ‘Pass me a ladle and five pints of Baileys, this pudding is going down.’

And if you’re worried about getting a bit more huggable over the festive season then I shall give you one tip: jumpers. What else are jumpers for, I ask you, other than to cover up the bit of chub that’s suddenly appeared after eating a whole tin of Quality Street? A nice jumper, plus a few extra pounds of love and you’re pretty much a stylish, yet completely self-sufficient, heat machine. So you save money on heating. Again with the smart economic decisions (I’m feeling very wise today).

Merry Christmas one and all! Pass me the gravy.

Suzi Collins

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