Fatness

Okay, before you say anything, I already know my kids have enormous heads. 

Lately fast food joints are warring over who can offer the healthiest kid's meal. 

'Cause, you know, healthy is what kids are all about. 

It may have started with uber-crunchy parents rampaging against the viral spread of cellulite. Last I heard, that crap gets in the water and infects entire cities.

Now, Chick-Fil-A stuffs their meals with thinly disguised cult-lit on how to be good, Mickey D's offers mini-fries and mini-apples instead of a full dose of either. Another place my boys despise eliminated the toy completely forcing kids to think about food choices rather than fun. 

And that's vital. Fun can be deadly.

Amusing thing is, no matter what options I offer my boys, they make the same choices. Like this picture. We picked out this stupid cheesecake for my birthday a few years back, they ate one bite each, then drove trucks through it for thirty minutes before feeding it to the dog.

Seriously. 

I have pics of the dog eating the cake. 

Also, they're kind of built, well, like they're built. I diversified to get more mileage out of thrift-store clothing.  

Nah, it's actually genetics. 

I do know that as a mother, I offer them an array of physical opportunities to burn off all the fast food they take in (and my kids take in more than some). Maybe the crunchy parents should attack cable TV or Nintendo instead of McDonalds. 

But maybe we're all just made up of a lot of tiny choices and tiny unavoidable factors like those pesky genetics. 

I mean, my hips were there at a size eight too. I'm not going to lie. I'd like to pretend I could be a slender size four or something someday. 

But that's sort of like dreaming about a healthy Happy Meal.