The Christmas Clothes

Let me be the first to tell you that when you are a fat kid the one present you don’t want to get for Christmas would be clothes. Getting clothes usually sucks anyway but when you are a boy of more than ample proportions it sucks twice as much. Let me set the scene.

I was about 12, and a big boy for sure weighing in at about 180, it was Christmas my favorite eating holiday and throw in presents- wow it just can’t get any better. I had opened all my presents and it was not a bad haul. I got a new football, a game, a book, a model and whole bunch of little things. Cookies, candy, nuts, a banner day for sure and I still had more. One more present sitting under the tree, it was a present from the parents and it was one big package. The tubster grabbed it up and said, “How about this, is this for me?” I knew it was since I had checked everything out before hand, but never hurts to be almost not interested even while darn near wetting yourself.

All the relatives were sitting around watching the fat boy open his Christmas booty so Tubby was playing to a full house. I tore at the paper knowing that something wonderful was waiting just under that thin cover. Rip, tear, “WHAT THE!” It was clothes, a pile of clothes. Yesiree a whole set of duds, underpants, jeans, shirt, belt, the works. I tried to look happy, but under my breath I thought crap- clothes what a crummy present to give a kid.

I looked them over then heard the words dreaded by all fat people with a pile of new clothes sitting in front of them. My mother was saying, “Tubby, go try them all on and show everybody how nice you look.” Now I loved my mother dearly, and I know she bought this set of clothes because she thought this would be a wonderful present, but the public try on. Oh no, not the public try on, I had already heard the relatives saying boy is he a husky one, my one Grandfather kept asking how much I weighed, and now the try on!

I grabbed the package and went to my room and started with the undies- hmmm bad sign when you start off with an elastic banded item and it is tight. They fit but they were already making a red mark under my gut. I grabbed the pants and just as I thought they wouldn’t zip, nor button. What to do? They needed a fashion show so I put on the shirt and it fit. I will have to use the fat boy trick of leaving the pants open with the shirttails out, I will look fine, they will get to see me in my Christmas duds then I can sneak off and change into some sweats. I strut into the room and everyone says, oh they look fine, you are so hansom in your new clothes, all that is except gramps. He says wow you look even fatter in those clothes, hold up your shirt and let’s see the waist. See the waist? Screw him, I should just drop my pants and show him my pink hinny. I knew the old bastard hated me, but now I saw just how much and it was a lot. Think Tubby, think, what to do, I need an answer to this problem and I need it fast.

A sly little Tubby smile to put him off his guard then I walk right up to where the old fool was sitting on the sofa. “Take a look gramps,” I said. Then seeing his coffee sitting on the sofa arm I bumped into it spilling the hot contents right into the old boys lap. Hmmm I thought, how hot is that coffee that landed right on your nut sack. He screamed, jumped up and said, “You clumsy little fat shit, watch what you are doing.” I am so sorry Gramps, was it hot?

I made a break during all the commotion and changed back into the old clothes, then used another fat boy line when something doesn’t fit. Oh, I want to keep my new clothes clean to wear to school! Yea sure, in the back of your mind you are thinking that from this minute on I am going to loose weight and these clothes will fit by the time I am forced to wear them, but actually you know they will never be worn. These clothes will get hid out with last years Christmas clothes and in a year or so you can say look these don’t fit anymore and throw them out.

So that is the story and it is all-true, so make sure if you have a fat kid, “DON’T TORMENT the little shit by buying him clothes. Better bet would be some of those candy coins, or some fudge, a box of cookies, maybe a turkey or something but never clothes. Oh and if you have to give clothes, please don’t use the public try on. It is kinder to just kick a boy in the nuts than to make him try on clothes in front of his family. So to all those fat kids I say, Merry Christmas, tally-ho and pass the fudge to Tubby.