SO how was your Christmas then? Did you embrace the season in the usual, traditional way? Not sure? Check the waistband of your clothes. Tighter than a week ago?

In fact, forget that. If you've done it properly, most of you will be reading this from the comfort of a pair of stretch waisted pants.

Yes, it's old news that we all overeat at Christmas. I've written about it several times already this month. But I have to confess, I thought it was more cliche than truth.

And, as a new person food-wise (when I say new person, I mean I no longer consider two minute microwave rice a health food), I didn't think I'd fall victim to this seasonally compulsion this year.

But my waistband tells me otherwise. Pride goes before a fall or, in my case, Pringles go before and after just about anything. I hate to eat when I'm already full, but that didn't stop me nearly making myself sick last weekend.

So what's going on with this Christmas overeating?

I think I've worked it out. Unless you are religious, Christmas Day is nothing if you take away the food.

After you've unwrapped your presents (half of which are edible anyway) what is there to do but think about what you're going to eat next?

Like on a lazy beach holiday, where, without the familiar restrictive structure of work you plan everything around mealtimes, Christmas Day, Boxing Day and New Year's Day owe their entire structure to food.

There is also the novelty factor - foods like brazil nuts, chocolate oranges, dates, mince pies and twiglets come out for their annual visit and it is like you've got to eat them all before they go into hiding again.

It also doesn't help that the person who does the Christmas shop buys more food than you'd normally eat in a month and lays it all out on tables, sideboards, TVs, stereos and every other available space. Sit still for more than a minute and you'll become a handy nibble tray yourself.

What's worse is I've identified the behaviour which allows normally sane people to eat like Monty Python's Mr Creosote.

If you've stuffed yourself with your Christmas dinner and can't imagine eating any more, all you need to do is eat one tiny savoury thing (a Mini Cheddar, say) and you'll then get the urge to eat something sweet (like a Quality Street or seven). Then you might think "that's enough", have a cup of tea, pass the table, grab a Pringle and lo! The whole process starts all over again. You are stuck in a loop.

Before you know it, it's midnight and you're wiping away cheese crumbs from your chops, clutching your stomach and wondering if you can squeeze in another After Eight mint.

The only way to break the cycle is to bin all the food, take down the decorations, turn off the TV and tell yourself its isn't Christmas. And where's the fun in that? Nah ... Next year, do exactly the same as you've done this year. Just make sure you put a pair of stretch waisted pants on your Christmas list, that is all.