It all seemed so easy a few weeks ago. When Christmas felt like an age away and plans were being loosely discussed, your response was casual, almost cavalier. 'We'll have it at ours', you said, barely giving the size and scale of hosting Christmas dinner a second thought. Once said, almost immediately forgotten. Until now.
If you do need to lose a few pounds I promise you it's not because you are greedy or lazy so don't beat yourself up. Neither do you have a weight gain inducing food intolerance or need a colonic so don't hide behind those. And your persistent pounds can't be blamed on a slow metabolism or are big boned either. Wake up, smell the coffee- you are most likely overweight because you eat too much and/or don't move around enough.
How big was YOUR Christmas lunch? Mine was the perfect pocket-sized offering - complete with mince pie - courtesy of a Middle Eastern airline, who were suitably as immune to the charms of a Christmas bauble as they were an Albert Square knees-up. This is what happened when I went in search of the festive spirit, at 30,000 feet.
In the 17th Century, the Christmas Mince Pies (yes, more meat...) were famous for having a little baby Jesus on the crust, which sounds rather nice, but was a horrifying act of blasphemous cannibalism in the eyes of Oliver Cromwell. It should be said, Olly was not a miserabilist most of the time, but he did feel Christmas was meant to be a period of holy reverence. Accordingly, he did away with it all, and even ordered the confiscation of Christmas dinners from people's tables. Strangely, attending church was also prohibited on Jesus' birthday, which seems a bit weird, even by his standards.