38 to 50

The biggest event of my 12th year was predicated on something that happened when I was 11. While Mom was in the hospital, Aunt Mary and Uncle Al were out of town for a while, visiting Aunt Elsie and Uncle Frank, who'd retired to Pompano Beach, Florida. I wasn't a latchkey kid---I didn't get a house key til we moved to this place---so when my dad left for work, I was locked out of the house until he got home in the afternoon.

I could use the facilities at our neighbors---my BF Doris's grandfather lived across the street; she was over there much of the summer, we hung out all the time anyway. One of the places we hung out was Majors, a department store a few blocks away. They had a bakery, and I talked Doris's grandfather into lending me $3. I had cash in my bank at home, I just couldn't get at it, and I wanted donuts. And donuts I got, and Doris and I ate donuts until we bulged.

Unfortunately, Grandpa was a paranoid old fart, and the minute my dad got home from work, he pounced on him and demanded the $3. Which set my dad off, big time. What did I want the money for? he wanted to know. And when he found out, he dragged me inside and made me get on the scale: 130 pounds. Which I don't think is outrageous, as I was about 5'5" at that pooint, but Dad? Was pissed.

Between that and the fact that I gained 40 pounds (but only 2") in the next year---the following summer, they sent me to fat camp. It was near Hawley, Pennsylvania, very pretty country---but to me, it was six weeks of torture.

( Freaking lengthy and not too polite rant under the cut, y'all )

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38 to 50

The biggest event of my 12th year was predicated on something that happened when I was 11. While Mom was in the hospital, Aunt Mary and Uncle Al were out of town for a while, visiting Aunt Elsie and Uncle Frank, who'd retired to Pompano Beach, Florida. I wasn't a latchkey kid---I didn't get a house key til we moved to this place---so when my dad left for work, I was locked out of the house until he got home in the afternoon.

I could use the facilities at our neighbors---my BF Doris's grandfather lived across the street; she was over there much of the summer, we hung out all the time anyway. One of the places we hung out was Majors, a department store a few blocks away. They had a bakery, and I talked Doris's grandfather into lending me $3. I had cash in my bank at home, I just couldn't get at it, and I wanted donuts. And donuts I got, and Doris and I ate donuts until we bulged.

Unfortunately, Grandpa was a paranoid old fart, and the minute my dad got home from work, he pounced on him and demanded the $3. Which set my dad off, big time. What did I want the money for? he wanted to know. And when he found out, he dragged me inside and made me get on the scale: 130 pounds. Which I don't think is outrageous, as I was about 5'5" at that pooint, but Dad? Was pissed.

Between that and the fact that I gained 40 pounds (but only 2") in the next year---the following summer, they sent me to fat camp. It was near Hawley, Pennsylvania, very pretty country---but to me, it was six weeks of torture.

( Freaking lengthy and not too polite rant under the cut, y'all )

.