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Small Talk: Holiday treat floodgates have opened

As the holidays approach, I may have done a very foolish thing. How much will-power I can muster to fix it, remains to be seen.

It was completely unintentional, truly, as I am trying to curb the sweet tooth that tends to rule my world this time of year. I was just flipping through TV channels for a lightweight show, to kill a little time. I stopped on the “Holiday Baking Championship.” I not only watched that episode, I have begun taping it.

So where’s the problem, you ask? Well, at least it’s not as bad as when I stumbled over the home improvement channel. They made it look so simple, I got sucked in to a way-too-ambitious project. On this baking channel, at least, the chefs sometimes make mistakes, and the mess they make creating gorgeous treats is very visible.

But that doesn’t stop me from risking blood-sugar-level havoc and tooth decay with my daydreams of the cookies and tarts and cakes I’d like to make over the next couple of months. Worse, it reminded me, in living color, how divine mini tarts, sugar cookies, gooey bars and homemade candy can taste.

I had briefly lulled my sweet tooth into a healthy coma with all the lovely pears and grapes of this season. I was really rockin’ the pre-holiday diet, with almond butter being my big indulgence.

Now, after watching the creation of dozens of cookies, and decadent cakes, I realized I was drooling. Suddenly, my sugar-free cupboards seemed desperately bare. I became a master at rationalizing why I could have just one frozen coffee drink, or one maple scone and, well, maybe just one jumbo chocolate muffin at church coffee hour — just to be polite, you know.

It is a slippery and sugary slope, my friends. I am not sure I can wiggle back to the top before Jan. 1. The clincher is that my darlin’ daughter has moved in with us and she loves to bake. I fear I have already lost this battle.

So brace yourselves. I expect I will be bringing boxes of goodies with me everywhere I go. It is on your head to eat the bulk of this stuff and save me from myself. I know — it’s a tiresome job, but you’ll make the sacrifice.

Ladies and gentlemen, raise your forks.

Jean Gillette is a freelance writer with visions of sugarplums dancing in her head. Contact her at [email protected]