Happy Independence Day to all my American followers! Ah, another holiday brimming with awesome BBQs, cold beer and delectable desserts. A regular fat ass nightmare. And it's on a Thursday. Which means 4 days of ducking and dodging hot dogs, hamburgers, fries and ice cream. Not to mention Al. C. Hall. (That's alcohol for you new readers.) He's always the first to be invited to every party. After all, a party without Al is really more of a church meeting. I will have to be extra cautious this week. We can't have Johnny taking a dive off the food truck. (That's the fat ass version of the wagon.)

Today's rant answers the "when did you know" question. I have touched on this in the past, but maybe you're ready for a clearer understanding. For years now, I have been asked "when did you first notice you were over weight"? It's on every medical history you fill out for any doctor and always asked by the over-active metabolism crowd.

Here's my best answer. Had I the capacity of cognitive thinking, I would have noticed at age 6 months or so when mom had to move me in to the "chubby baby" size diapers. Unfortunately I was too distracted at the time by the creepy stuffed bear that kept staring at me and that horrendous mobile thing constantly twirling above my head playing the same song over and over again. I was too traumatized to realize I was busting out of my skinny diapers. If only I could have read the "New Chubby Baby Size" blurb on the diaper box. Who knows? Maybe I would have started on low cal Gerber's.

In blissful denial, I moved into my early childhood. We all know I had to wear man size cub scout pants with three feet cut off the legs. And yes, we know I was further traumatized when my ass knocked over the stacked milk cartons in grammar school. I talked about those incidents in earlier posts. But there were other signs that my blissful denial refused to let me see. As I grew older (and wider), I used to try on shirts with the "HUSKY" tag on the sleeve. I always got mad when they took the that tag off. I thought it was a cool logo. Like the alligator or the swoosh. I could never fit in the shirts with the little penguin. I should have known then I had an issue.

Another sign I should have picked up on was my inability to comfortably fit in the normal child desk provided to me by my school. Remember the desk with the attached chair with the top that hinged open forward? Every other kid had no problem lifting that lid and getting to their books and supplies. My expanding ass and belly prevented me from using this desk as designed. I had to carefully slide off the chair, open the lid and then carefully slide back in. In hindsight, I think I should have took the hint.

There were other signs that I ignored along my pudgy path. One of the last glowing signs I remember came when I went to join the pee wee football league. I showed up at the designated time with all the proper paperwork and was ready to start my football career. Unfortunately, there was a weigh in and I failed. I was rejected by the pee wee football team because I was too "husky". WTF? How can a guy be too fat to play football? Bottom line is they were afraid I would smush the little kids when I jumped on the tackle pile. I ended up playing for a fat ass kid's league three towns over. Another hint missed.

I didn't just wake up one day and discover I had an elephant size ass and a hippo's stomach. I've know since my bottle sucking days that I was well above average in the girth department. Obviously I should have started getting serious about weight loss then. I may have been able to avoid going to Uncle Vito's Big & Tall for my prom tuxedo.

See ya soon.

P.S My official Fitbit scale says I have dropped 35 pounds of blubber since April 9th. 50 more to go.

Reprinted from my blog. Stop on by for a chuckle.

http://thedeconstruc...y.blogspot.com/