Pie Overdose

My game plan going into Thanksgiving dinner was to fast during the day, exercise, and then eat a reasonable meal.  I also swore off dessert (unless there was pumpkin pie available and then I would indulge in a small sliver, about the size of a wood chip).

I had researched some eating strategies prior to the event.  Chew a lot.  Drink plenty of water.  Fill up on vegetables and fruits.

When it was finally game time and the family sat down at my sister-in-law's table in Baltimore I heeded my guidelines and completed the affair feeling as if I did all right.  My preparation paid off and I pushed away from the table feeling pretty good.  As a matter of fact, I felt svelte.

(Kudos to the host and hostess, by the way - coordinating a Thanksgiving meal for a large and diverse group is a sadist's dream come true - it was concocted by a community of religious puritans, after all).

Intermission set in after the meal and conversations arose as everyone caught up on the past year's family events.  I relaxed and relished the moment of being in a warm, safe place with good company.

And then a bunch of pies showed up.

It was a crew of hoodlums to be sure - vanilla cherry and apple caramel walnut from the local orchard had hooked up with sweet potato and pumpkin from the city - a regular dessert thug syndicate.

I started to sweat and went over in my mind the well-laid plan of partaking in a section of pumpkin pie that had to be measured in micrometers.  I ambled over, picked up the knife, started to cut...

and blew it.

I commenced to eat a slice of each one.

(For posterity purposes, I will quickly rate them beginning with my least favorite and ending with the best:  cherry vanilla, sweet potato, pumpkin, and apple).

I then wolfed down half of a salted caramel tart for good measure. 

The pie Bacchanal had a huge effect on my psyche and I dreamed all night that Dean Martin and I had teamed up to fight giant eyeballs from outer space and only he and I could see them (ergo the selected photo of Dino's head popping out of a pie as Peggy Lee watches.  It looks to be pumpkin, too).

It is now the day after (Black Friday) and I can attest that there is such a thing as a pie hangover.

Oh, well.  That which does not kill me....

To the gym, Batman.

Happy Holidays.