A Feast-able Day

i decided that thanksgiving is a wonderful day of torture. the day before and the morning of is spent slaving away over a beautiful dish. then when it's brought to the party, your piece of art is mercilessly cut apart without a second thought. next, is when you've eaten plate after scrumptious plate of the delicious art, and even though the food was sooo good, you can hardly talk, let alone breathe. so then you try and let the food digest as you socialize with the family, take a nap, or play cards. you start to see people walking around with a dessert you didn't see, that (of course) you must have, but the problem is you're still so full. needless to say, that really doesn't matter anyway because you know that you're going to roll over to the counter and get yourself a size able helping of the yummy treat. after you eat it, you feel even sicker than heck and you just know that your doctor is gonna kill you when he finds out that the weight you were suppose to gain over the span of four weeks, you easily gain in one. but you figure since you've already done so bad, nothing can make it really too much worse as you continually stuff yourself silly.

falling asleep that night with a completely full stomach is the last of torture for the day. but as you start to sleep, you can't help but subtly smile as you dream of next year when you'll do the same thing.