Slim Odds

I am not very ashamed to admit that since the shops started stocking mince pies in October, TheBloke (TM) and I have nibbled our way through at least ten packets of them (this is a very conservative estimate). This is excluding the two batches of 12 homemade mince pies I made. At a rough conservative estimate, I have eaten approximately 45 mince pies in the last two months.

In a totally unrelated turn of events, it appears both TheBloke (TM) and I have put on a teeny amount of weight in the last eight weeks.

Things must be done about this, as I simply cannot be bothered to replace all my trousers with maternity leggings and/or the “leaving the top button of my jeans undone and hope nobody notices” method. (They always do, and I am no longer welcome at the children’s playground.) I have never actively tried to lose weight before. As a teenager, and in my early twenties, I struggled to put weight on. A relatively small appetite, a high metabolism and a predisposition to lose my appetite if experiencing any stress* meant that I rarely tipped the scales heavier than about 6.5 stones. Hyperemesis during both pregnancies meant that I finished pregnancy a full stone lighter than I started it. Safe to say that now I have a healthy appetite, my metabolism has slowed and these days I tend to ameliorate stress with a medicinal Long Island Iced Tea… the mince pies may have contributed slightly to making me festively plump.

So TheBloke (TM) and I have agreed that come January 1, we will try and lose some of our winter plumage. Unfortunately, because I am insanely competitive, I suggested making it a contest. The first one to lose 5% of their body weight will be the winner. The prize is currently undecided but suggestions mooted have been: getting a lie-in on BOTH weekend days or a massive fry-up cooked by the loser. I think you can probably see why we’re having this competition in the first place.

So far, so good. Except the insane competitiveness is a trait TheBloke (TM) and I share. He would deny this, but he is wrong. So in preparation for needing to lose weight as quickly as possible come 1 January, we are what can only be described as “stockpiling” in the meantime. The fatter we can get in the next few days – hopefully – the quicker we will be able to shed the pounds. So we are currently competitively eating. “Om nom nom,” TheBloke (TM) will say whilst brandishing a triple-decker stuffing ball and sausage sandwich at me, triumphantly.

“I see your ‘om nom nom’ and raise you a ‘yummy’,” I retaliate, brandishing the remains of the Quality Street tin in one hand, and a hunk of brie in the other. “KFC for dinner tonight?”

“You’re on.”

Assuming neither of us succumbs to blocked arteries and/or heart disease in the meantime, the weigh-in will happen at midnight on 31 December. Of course it won’t. We’ll have been asleep for two hours by then. But you get the idea. In the meantime, I have a whole Tupperware container of pork scratchings to eat. See you later.

* Stress at this stage of my life usually comprised a particularly challenging English essay, an approaching piano exam or a poor mark in a History test. There was no call for Prozac.