I got beef with childhood obesity – it’s ruining my life. My son is a bona fide fat-ass. He’s only ten years old and he already weighs almost 200 pounds. His boobs are bigger than mine! It’s gross. He’s revolting to behold, and I’m concerned for his health. He never gets any exercise, and he only eats fast food and junk food. I’ve tried to guide him into healthier habits, but when he doesn’t get what he wants he throws a fit and sits on me. Once he actually broke my rib. I’m scared of the fat little monster, so I constantly give in and continue to enable his unhealthy life choices. How can I help my son?
Mom of the Blob
Dear Mom of the Blob,
Childhood obesity is a flabby blight on our society, because parents like you refuse to do what’s necessary to keep your children healthy. Fortunately, I do have some advice that may help you and your son. It’s based on my own experience as a grotesquely overweight child.
I was a fat kid. Really fat. Much like your son, I ate a ton of junk food and I got no exercise. I just sat around all day watching television and playing video games, stuffing food in my face. Other kids (and sometimes even adults) would make fun of me, calling me names like fat-boy, plumpy-butt, butterball, chubby-flubber, and piggy-piggy-fat-ass. I suffered from low self-esteem and depression, and I buried my sorrows under mountains of ice cream and cheeseburgers.
One sad day, I was sulking in the alley behind a convenience store with my closest friends: a milkshake and a fistful of candy bars. A troupe of gypsies happened upon me and, after laughing at me for several minutes, kidnapped me. With much exertion they carried me out of town and took me as their slave. That first night I tried to run away, but I was so out of shape that I collapsed less than a stone’s throw from their camp. There was no escape. I was at their mercy.
Life with the gypsies was hard. I was forced to walk from town to town – they wouldn’t let me ride a donkey because they were afraid I would break its back. We only ate one meal a day: it was a gross but healthy stew that the women cooked when we settled in to camp at night. If I complained of boredom without my electronics, the gypsy men made me chop wood or dig holes for toilets. When we came to a town, I would have to dance on a street corner for change. You’d be surprised at how many nickels and dimes a rhythm-lacking fat kid can draw from strangers.
After a couple years of this hard gypsy living, I lost a lot of weight. All the walking, manual labor, and healthy eating really helped me slim down and get into shape. Not to brag, but now I’m just about the sexiest man you’ll ever meet. And it’s all thanks to those dirty child-snatching gypsies.
So my advice to you, if you’re not parent enough to do the simple things your child needs, is to sell him into gypsy slavery. They’ll whip that little hippo into shape real quick. You won’t have to do a thing! And isn’t that every bad parent’s dream?
Peace, Love, and Slimming Down Your Obese Offspring,