A Brief Thing: Fat Kid

Oh, I love food. I love eating it. Cooking it. Smelling it. Having it put onto a plate and handed to me. I was born this way, and I have decided that I will always be like this. I am coming out as a Fat Kid.

Recently, I was told that as a child I had a noteworthy fascination with breasts. A much smaller version of myself walked into the mess of several strange men replacing the carpet in my parents' house. I sat down on the couch and with exasperation said, "breasts, breasts, breasts." What is there not to be fascinated by? They make food. To eat. When my younger brother was born, I was nearly two and my parents found that I had assembled (without assistance) the breast-pump for my new little friend's food supply. Breasts.

This fascination has never crossed the line of sexuality, and I don't think that I have a deeply buried fetish for the female anatomy (wouldn't that be a surprise). And as an adult I have an, uncomfortable relationship with milk. Bear in mind, I have very little problem eating a cow--steak, burgers, meatballs, just add BBQ sauce and I'll eat any version of no-longer-mooing. But to drink a cow's milk. FROM A COW'S BREAST? A mutant breast with too many nipples? No thanks. Some sacred mother-child bond has been broken when you take a suckling calf off of that giant cow nipple to say "my turn." I'm easily tricked when it comes to this problem though. Turn that obscene cow milk into cheese, yogurt, or ice cream, and I don't even take pause. Never-mind that pesky lactose intolerance. 

Let's stretch. Rub your eyes. Please accept my apology, we've found ourselves at the end of a rant about milk. My point is that my career as a Fat Kid started early.

Being a Fat Kid isn't about having some spare pounds hanging about or a stash of candy in the nightstand (even though...). I like to think about my Fat Kid-ness like a spirit-animal. Haven't you heard of this? Watch "Brother Bear," it's all explained. I have an inner guide, a Fat Kid whispering to my soul. Ethan, eat that pie. And I say, "okay Fat Kid spirit-animal, I will eat that pie." 

There are some eyebrows being raised right now. I can feel them, the judgmental rays. Talk about eating disorders and what have you is likely spiraling around your heads. Just hush it up and have a snack. 

Look into the deepest part of your soul. Do you have an intimate appreciation for food? Can you eat something just because it is delicious at the expense of being indecently full? You may have your own little Fat Kid lurking about. Heed my words: be proud. Accept yourself. Love yourself. Maybe one day you will have the confidence to turn to your family, your friends, the world and come out as a Fat Kid. 

I am a Fat Kid.