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I will be the first admit that when it comes to the holidays, I have a lot of issues. But one reoccurring holiday issue, which has nothing to do with our family’s tragic loss, looms large. I am speaking, of course, of unobtainable food. The kind of food that you cannot get on Christmas Day. I become obsessed. My stomach growls and then screams in hunger for the food that is, for one short day, unavailable. My poor husband has literally spent about 20 hours in the past ten or so years driving all over town with me on Christmas night looking for an open Krystal’s. Why does he do it? Well, I guess the real question is, ‘how can he not?’ When I get the crazed look in my eyes that demands chili cheese fries, he just reaches for his coat and car keys. “Maybe this year,” I always say, happy to be indulged, “will be different.” I know this makes me look like a huge spoiled baby brat. Which of course, I am. But after a day of eating turkey and ham and home cooked treats, my body wants, nay….. NEEDS some greasy fries smothered in chili and cheese. My husband does not understand it. “If you could just wait until tomorrow,” he always says, “All the Krystals in the world will be available to you.” I usually just give him a look. My patented, “Do you want me to get upset here and start squirting some tears?” look. I am not proud of this. I don’t LIKE to be consumed with hunger for the one food in the world I cannot have…. But there you have it. Christmas Krystal Lust. It is as predictable as the holiday itself. Last year my hubby tried to cut me off at the pass. “You manage to go months and months without eating any Krystal chili cheese fries,” he said, a week or so before Christmas, “and then suddenly develop an overwhelming need for them on the ONE DAY YOU CANNOT HAVE THEM.” He thought up a plan, and he was optimistic it would work. On December 23, he put my big whiny butt in the car and drove me to Krystal where he gallantly ordered all my Krystal favorites. “Now” He was gleeful, “you will not want Krystal’s on Christmas Day when you cannot have it. You will be sated!” He was right. I did NOT want Krystal’s on Christmas Day. I wanted Chickfilet instead. This time he did not even bother reaching for his coat. “You KNOW Chickfilet won’t be open on Christmas Day.” “I know.” I huffed. Irrationally I felt tears pricking at my eyes. “I just want it.” In vain, my husband offered to fix me anything my heart desired for dinner. In the true spirit of being a brat, I axed down his offers one after another. “I just want Chickfilet.” I whined. “Tomorrow.” He promised, as one would a very small child, which indeed, I actually am. Just a very small child trapped in a grown woman’s body. Thank God my husband knows and accepts that. It is the secret to our marriage lasting twenty-five years. The holidays are looming large and knowing this as we do, my hubby and I are frantically making last minute holiday preparations by stockpiling my demanding belly with tons of all the fast foods that will not be available on Christmas Day. This year, I vow, I will be happy with home food and the great holiday food search postponed indefinitely.
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