The latest issue to cross the media’s lips these days is the topic of “childhood obesity” and how it might be contagious.
I guarantee you, there will be some parents out there who will whisper to their kids, “I really don’t want you playing with little whatsername anymore, she’s a little chubby.”
Yeah. Chubbiness will become the new “chicken pox.”
Instead of “don’t scratch!!, it will become “put down that Little Debbie!”
Truth of it is, folks, kids aren’t getting fat because they’re hanging around each other. Kids aren’t getting fat because they’re glued to the tube. Kids aren’t getting fat because they’re playing video games. Ever try to feed a kid playing video games?? Fageddaboudit. If it takes two hands to handle a whopper, it takes three to play a video game and eat at the same time.
Kids are gettin’ fat, if they are gettin’ fat, because who the heck wants to send their kids outside to play anymore? I won’t get into it, but I think you parents know what I’m talking about. You’ve gotta have eight pair of eyes to watch your kids anymore. I know. I go outside with Sunnybuns and if I see him go past that bush on the left, I make a dash for him.
Kids can’t go nuts in the neighborhood like they used to. We used to be out ridin’ bikes til about 11 at night. No one was smokin’, drinkin’, doin’ drugs, none of that. We just liked being out late...riding bikes and having fun.
It’s gotten so that I go outside and stand guard when Sunnybuns takes his scooter down the drive to get the mail.
Can’t be too careful. It’s sad that even when you think you are in a safe neighborhood, your gut instinct tells you differently.
Kids are indoors because they have to be. Sad fact, but true.
If you think your kid is gettin’ fat, hand them a standard sized bed pillow and tell them to start wailin’ on it. Kick it. Punch it. Throw it. The pillow is the villain and the kid is the karahtay masstah. I know this exercise works. I spent $14 on a “body” pillow, a nice Tommy Hilfiger that I got way discounted. We have had that pillow for two years and it has yet to split a seam. Talk about your quality construction.
My kid has beat the livin’ dogbite out of that danged pillow. I know that if I were that pillow, I’d be bandaged from head to toe and I’d have no teeth. I’d limp on one leg and drag the other behind me. One arm would be danglin’ out of its socket and the other would be bent up behind my back, wrist flung over the other shoulder. One eye black and the other blue.
The Pillow vs. Sunnybuns match starts every night around 8 at our house. Most of the daytime is spent ontheotherstuffthatwedon’tliketomentionakavideogames ... or skating around the house in his socks, or the occasional playdates with whomever is still left in town during the summertime.
The Pillow loses. Always. Sunnybuns starts off fully clothed when he begins the match, but gets himself into such a sweat that he’s down to his boxers in no time. Not only is he getting pee-len-tee of exercise, but I get to sit and watch. It’s hilarious.
Wears me out just watchin’ him.
I like spending quality time with my kid.
I’m hoping that some of that exercise he’s doing will be contagious.
In the meantime, it gives me a good excuse to just kick back in the recliner, pop up the footrest, and crack open a big ol’ bag of puffed Cheetos.
Contagious obesity. Yeah ... right.