That Time of Year

Yesterday, a notation on the grocery list reminded me that it's that time of year again: the Great American Blubberbutt Fest. GABF, for those of you unfamiliar with this holiday, begins in October with Halloween candy and doesn't finally wind down until the last New Year's Eve cocktails--and cocktail weenies--are tossed back. Think of it as a kind of reverse-Ramadan, only twice as long and twenty times as fattening. During this time, people will carry in to their place of work foods that they'd never make for their families, because they're just too unhealthy. And their co-workers will eat every bite and wash it all down with hot cocoa, or punch, or eggnog, which is whole milk to which has been added ten pounds of sugar, the yolks of a dozen eggs and some nutmeg. Because nutmeg is famed for its ability to reverse heart disease. At our house the pre-season warmup has already begun. The note on the grocery list was Old Dog's reminder to himself to stock up on Halloween candy. Beggar's Night, aka Trick or Treat, is still two weeks away, but we now have a supply of Reese's peanut butter cups, Fast Break bars and Butterfinger Miniatures on the kitchen counter. (At least, we did. We now have half a supply.) In case you're not festive enough on your own, GABF always runs in parallel to school fundraisers, where adorable little boys in Cub Scout uniforms show up on your porch with kegs of popcorn (buttered popcorn, cheese popcorn, caramel popcorn, chocolate popcorn...) and adorable little girls call on the phone to ask how many Mint Moneypits and Caramel Cashsuckers Grandma and Grandpa are willing to spring for. Because if she sells $20,000 worth, she'll receive a stuffed animal worth $4.99. (And don't bother to offer to simply buy her said toy--it has a paper tag hanging from its paw that makes it magical and special, and it can only be won by selling a gazillion Peppermint Pocket-Pickers) Hmm. I may need to work on my holiday spirit.