Sleighful of Cellulite

For the past few weeks, the establishment where I work out (okay, usually I'm dropping my kids off for classes and going across the street to Target, but occasionally I do work out) has had a table of gift baskets set up near the front desk. A raffle for members - with a free ticket every time they swiped your card.

At least that's how it was supposed to work. But it seemed the ladies at the desk were rather swamped with class registrations the last two weeks and didn't offer a ticket to most people.

Including our little familial group.

But on Tuesday, Esteemed Husband and I had a couple of minutes before the children were done their class, so we went back to the desk and specifically asked for tickets.

And - lo and behold - this afternoon I got a call saying I had won Basket #1.

Which, it turns out, isn't actually a basket, but a wooden sleigh full of all sorts of packaged sweets.

Woo-hoo!

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus -- and evidently, he likes his women Rubenesque.

There's gotta be at least ten boxes of stuff shrinkwrapped in my Sleigh of Joy - and the name Ghirardelli is featured prominently...

Wait - I'm counting -- I think there's 15 boxes.

And Peanut Brittle! (Does anyone remember my peanut bar thing?)

Oh my freakin' diabetic-in-the-making gawd!

(Now, let's not ruin the mood with cynical speculations as to why an establishment theoretically devoted to increasing the health of its members would give away this massively-beautiful collection of sugar and fat...)

I've got to take a picture of it, but I'm not sure if I can hold my hands steady enough to get a clear shot while in such close proximity to its awesome caloric power!





There's even a cool-looking box of mint puffs emblazoned "King Leo" -- a brand I hadn't heard of before. I'm not a major peppermint fan, but a major fan of Leos (as in the astrological sign of my Esteemed Husband, and well, Leo my dead cat.)

Hmmm, I've never been a huge believer in spirits, but if this King Leo thing is a sign that my kitty is making some sort of magical food-raffle-winning sh*t happen from beyond the grave...?

I knew I loved that darn cat.

Happy holidays everyone - from me and my ever-expanding thighs.