teasing early because i won't have time to blog tomorrow.
i thought it was about time for a little something more from BUTTER. this is the start of the second chapter.
for those of you who don't like swearing, please be aware of the F-bomb in this excerpt!
Breakfast the next morning was the usual fare: egg white omelets and turkey sausage for Mom and Dad; pecan waffles, Canadian bacon and poached eggs for me. No syrup for the waffles this morning, though. I didn’t ask why because I could guess the answer. Mom was trying to sneak the sugar out of my diet again.
When it came to feeding me, Mom bounced between whole grain and whole fat, vegetables and cupcakes, hope and resignation, the way I bounced between binging and purging.
I shoveled the dry waffles into my mouth and tried to catch my dad’s attention over his newspaper. “What’s the word, Dad? Anything interesting in there?” I poked the back of his paper.
Dad directed the answer at Mom. “The Cardinals are never going back to the Super Bowl if they keep playing like this.”
Mom, who could not have been less interested in sports, merely hummed.
I tried again. “Do they have anything about the jazz fest in there? They’re supposed to announce the lineup this week.”
Dad grumbled something to himself about preferring the Beatles and lifted his paper higher in front of his face.
Remember I said my mom had stopped talking about my weight? Well, my dad stopped talking to me altogether. It happened about a year ago, when I first tipped over 400 pounds. At that 4-0-0 benchmark, there was so much of me to see, nobody could miss me. To my dad, though, I just became invisible. He talked around me, if he talked at all.
But you know what? – And I know this is going to sound fucked up – I didn’t care. Seriously, my dad was kind of a prick. I mean, I knew he loved me somewhere deep… deep down, and I loved him. We just didn’t like each other very much.
Growing up, my dad thought my big frame meant I was built to play football. When I started growing out, he just didn’t know what to do with me, and by then, it was too late for him and mom to start over with a new kid. So he tried to get me into the gym, shove his nasty egg white omelets down my throat and tell me I wasn’t a lost cause.
I was actually pretty relieved when I hit 400 pounds, and he finally just shut the fuck up.