Ode to egg nog.

It's the best time of the year. The time when egg nog wonderfully and miraculously reappears on grocery store shelves. Last week I bought a couple quarts and told the young cashier that the very definition of pathetic is when the high point of your year is the re-emergence of egg nog.

Egg nog manufacturers try to be tricky in their nutritional information. At first glance, it almost appears to be good for you. One gram of fat. Two grams of carbs. Three grams of sugar. Closer inspection reveals that each quart container supposedly hold 200 servings. That only works if you're parsing it out 10 cc's at a time through a syringe, like in E.R. "We need nog, STAT."

Putting nutritional information on egg nog is like posting it at McDonald's. We know it's bad for us, so kindly spare us the details. For six weeks each year I get to pour this wonderfully thick, sugary liquid down my gullet, and in all honesty if I were told that one out of six cartons contained a lethal dose of cyanide, I'd still risk it. It's...that...good.

I love egg nog, yes I do
Would love to drink egg nog with you
I drink egg nog every night
Can't rest 'til egg nog's in my sight

If I were dying, my last wish
Would be for egg nog, thick and rich

For egg nog I've undying thirst

Until it's gone January first

That last line wasn't terribly rythmic, but I'm an artist dammit.