by Chub Writer
Alex Honeydew is a kid and loves food, but his mother is concerned about his weight.
|In the middle of a dark living room, you could hear the crunching of potato chips and the comic violence of cartoons. The parents Mr. and Mrs. Honeydew are looking at their quite plump son, greedily stuffing chips into his mouth late into the night. His mother is looking over at him quite concerned.
"Honeybunch, what's wrong?" says the father.
"Well, it's about Alex."
"What's wrong with Alex? Is he getting sick?"
"No, it's just... look at him. He's getting so big lately, I was just thinking about his health. You know he is starting to have trouble running with the other boys at school. Did you know that?" They both look over at the sleepy child with a now pretty full belly. Watching his round belly go up and down with each breath. His shirt straining with each breath.
"Darla, I think you are overreacting. He's only 7 and has his whole life ahead of him to get rid of the little puppy fat he has going on. Sure he is a little bigger than all of his friends but he seems to like it that way."
"Look, Paul. He's 96 lbs. at just 7 years old. Surely that can't be healthy? I just think that we should take him to the doctor and see if he is healthy or not. His weight is starting to get out of hand. He just finished a family-sized bag of Lays in one setting. How does that not concern you? " Darla sits up in bed with her arms crossed in clear distress.
Paul gets up and embraces her. "Honeybunch, if it means that much to you we can go to the doctor tomorrow. I know a guy that works in pediatrics who takes walk-ins. His name is Dr. Feedar and we can get this all taken care of." He gives her a sweet kiss and turns over back into bed. "Don't worry, our son is in good hands."
She gives him a kiss. "Thank you. That makes me feel a lot better. Before you go to bed, would you mind bringing Alex to his bed? I think he fell asleep on the recliner. You know I can't lift him."
Paul gets out of bed and goes over to the now sleeping Alex in his recliner. He is surrounded by an empty lays bag and a completely empty bag of Oreo cookies from dinner that night that he seems to have sneaked out of the pantry. The round hill of stomach is waving up and down to the motion of his breath. Paul then picks him up with some effort. He didn't remember him being this heavy last time. He gently puts him into his bed and admires how plump his some has gotten over the years. In only a few years time, he has put on quite a few pounds. It just how his father wants him. All a father wants for him is for his son to be fat and happy.
He thinks to himself, I'm not going to let mom have you lose weight if you don't want to. Thankfully, I know the doctor that will help us in that cause. He puts him down gently, and gives his belly a good rub, turns off the light in his room so he can go to sleep. He goes back to the living room and cleans the mess that his 7 year old made. All that good eating will turn into fat in no time. As he is closing the door to his son's room. Alex stirs and wakes up. He starts to rub his belly trying to settle it.
"Daddy." He says in a soft, sleepy whisper. My stomach is rumbling." He pats his heavily working round gut.
"Yea, its from all those cookies you have been stealing from under our noses, I see."
"Sorry..." He looks away guiltily.
"That's okay. I just have to buy you more cookies next time." He comes over to the bed and pokes his belly and Alex's belly makes an audible rumble. "You know what will make that feel better? A tall glass of warm chocolate milk." Paul heads to the kitchen and warms him up a big glass of whole chocolate milk from Paul's own recipe book. Half heavy cream, half whole milk, a half cup of chocolate syrup, and one tablespoon of sugar for taste. He warms up the 26oz concoction in the microwave for 2 minutes. Don't forget to let the glass cool. He brings the tall glass to his overindulged son. "I have your favorite! "Papa's homemade chocolate milk, just for you." He pats his son's head and hands him the large glass with a paper town in hand waiting for what comes next. Instead of small sips, he starts to gulp it down like he hasn't drunk anything all day. He closes his eyes and enters into pure bliss. All the sugar and the fattening creams blended together perfectly. Some of the milk slowly drips from the sides of his mouth and on his soft double chin and His dad is there to clean it all up before it can hit the bed or his sheets. He finishes the glass all in one sitting and is breathing heavily. One from not having air for a period of time as he is drinking it and two because there is absolutely no room left in his clearly overworked gut. He sleepily hugs his dad as he is cleaning up his face and double chin.
"Thanks, daddy." He spaces each word in between overworked breaths. "You always know how to make me feel better." His dad tucks him into bed and takes the glass away. He rubs his son's belly.
"Goodnight, son. See you in the morning." He turns off the light and slowly shuts the door.