Truth Be A Five-Year-Old

Kids say the darndest cruelist meanist truth.

Do you have kids? If so, you’ve more than likely been in a situation where they blurt out something completely inappropriate about someone. Despite having many conversations that we don’t talk about how people look, once at a restaurant, my then-four-year-old shouted out (while laughing) “look at that guy’s fat belly.” I was horrified and immediately apologized. I felt terrible for the man in question. Of course, the thing is, he did have a fat belly. You see, children, maybe due to lack of a filter, speak the truth.

And it sucks.

My stomach has been bothering me all day. I have no idea why, just one of those tummy ache days. So after dinner tonight, we went outside for a little two-on-one baseball action. My kid asks why I’m not running the bases. I say that I have a stomach ache. He says, “probably because you’re super fat.”

So there it is. I know it shouldn’t bother me — kids say things out of line; they don’t know what they are really talking about; another excuse. Bullshit. The kid speaks the truth. OK, I might not be “super” fat, but right now, for the way I feel, I may as well be a circus act. Ladies and gentlemen, introducing, the super fattest woman in the world.

Now I’m not sitting here crying. I’m not mad at the kid. I’m not really much of anything.

No, that’s not true. I’m angry. I’m angry for being this weight. I’m angry for not working harder to change it. I’m angry for being lazy and having little self control.

And let’s be honest, I’m a little angry at my kid, who I’m sure thought he was joking, for telling the truth.

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