Memoirs of a Fat Kid in Recovery: Thanksgiving edition.

For much of my life I’ve carried this weight on my shoulders, more in my belly and hips to be honest, that has haunted me like the ghost of Marley from Christmas Carol. That lurking feeling that someone is watching me. Silently judging my every move. A specter that sees exactly what I’ve put on my Thanksgiving plate and punishes me by loosening screws on chairs. Or even more deceitfully, making the only seating option those cheap plastic chairs that everyone had at their house but no one knows who bought. I know who bought them. It was a jerk.

Amusing chairs huh? Amusing for whom? Skinny people who laugh at fat kids who break them after trying to sneak off to hit the dessert table for the third time hoping no one would notice? Rude.

As a large man I have acquired a certain set of skills. Skills that make me a nightmare for chairs like these. If you’re like me and gravity seems to be awfully fond of you, listen up. If you find yourself searching for a chair and this is your only option, skip it. Lean on a wall. Sit on the floor. Go out to the “car for a breather, I mean it’s awful warm in here did they really need to turn the heat on? There’s 30 of us and the house is small.” Don’t let those skinny bastards see you fall. They might see you sweat but that problem is for a different blog.

The good news is this year not only do we not have to worry about making a fool of ourselves in front of a ton of people, we are being told to not hang out with anyone! Score one for the fat kids! Live up that virtual Thanksgiving and eat all the food you want! Plus you can turn the camera off to sneak back to dessert table AND you can sit in your own sturdy chair. And no one will tell you to sit at the kids table even though you’re 31 and dammit I have a job!!

Maybe I should have started a diet earlier, but next Monday never seems to show up. My name is Decker and I’m a recovering fat kid, I’ll lose weight someday, maybe.