Since Christmas is all about giving, I decided to give my husband the exact Christmas dinner he wanted: prime rib with a begrudging serving of green vegetables on the side.

Unfortunately, I made the mistake of eating the very same thing. For three days now I’ve regretted my choice. As you can see, that thing was so much closer to rare than medium rare that I wouldn’t have been surprised to find it still breathing as my knife sliced into it. But it was, according to VH, the absolute best meal of the year.

For me, if you’ll pardon my slaughtered metaphor, it was the meal that broke the camel’s back. I am sick of such meals, sick of feeling afterwards like I just want to curl in a ball and not move for days, and really sick of the digestive problems that arise when I actually do something along those lines.

Since Christmas night I’ve been eating nothing but soup. I figure, after consuming that much meat in one sitting, I’m probably good on protein (and saturated fats) for the rest of the year. That’s fine, as far as my husband’s concerned: there are nine pounds of Prime Rib left in the fridge, and he’s laid claim to each and every one of them.

So, how was your Christmas? Did you get jewelry? Pretty new clothes? Sheepskin boots? Do tell!