I was a fat kid in middle school, but not the fattest. She was in special ed, and had down syndrome. Teachers deemed it inappropriate to make fun of her, so the class defaulted to me for the butt end of their jokes. Did I mention I was brown too? Fat, round and brown. Yup. So technically being the fattest kid in school, you get picked last for team sports such as flag football, volleyball, or basketball. My time to shine came once a year, when we played tug-of-war. People would punch throats and wish death on their mothers if they didn’t get me — okay it wasn’t that intense – and I felt important for about a week. Then the other fifty-one weeks of the year, I was “round-brown” again. In many ways, we have that fat kid inside who values recognition, and maybe an occasional Snicker’s Ice Cream bar. I guess the point I’m trying to make here is that I wasn’t the fattest kid in school.
“Drooling Daisy” died of diabetes the following year because she consumed concealed candy kids kept from teachers.