Those who don't really know me might think that I'm the early bird of the family.  That's at least partially true .  I have my breakfast before anyone else.  Otherwise, my wife might insist that I start out the day with oatmeal, pancakes, or scrambled eggs.  I know.  Every time I sleep in, I find a disgustingly nutritious meal on the table before I can whip up my own goodies like root beer floats or jam-covered Pop Tarts.

Being quite timid, I eat what I'm fed for the rest of the day -- except for the candy bars that I hide in my den or the hard candy stashed in my jacket.  I start snacking on them about an hour before meals just to make sure that I have enough energy to get to the table once my wife clangs the old dinner gong.

Some people who read this might think that I'm fat.  That ain't the case.  I'm so cotton pickin' thin that my wife keeps trying to put some meat on my bones.  'Taint no use, though.  I have a straight gut and every day food slips on through.  The only things that stick to my ribs contain empty calories with plenty of sugar.

My folks used to say that it was tough to grow old.  I've proved they were wrong.  When I was young, I had to count every calorie that entered my body -- except when I played football or went out for the gym team.  During those seasons, I worked off my calories and sweat off the fluids.  Besides, by the time I came home to dinner, I was too tired to eat.

I've been told that Nirvana won't last -- that I'm sure to pay for my gluttony and become as fat as a sow when my metabolism wakes up.  Could be.  However, I do take precautions like making sure we have no alarm clocks anywhere near the fridge.  I also weigh myself four times per day to make sure that I'm not about to start gaining more weight than I need.  Whenever I pick up five pounds or so, I quit making malts out of cream and forgo the desserts that I usually consume before breakfast or during the night.

There's only one drawback to my wonderful lifestyle.  When the grandkids come by, I have to sneak all my pre-diner desserts.  Their folks want them to eat right so they can build more muscle than fat.  Otherwise, they might not win athletic scholarships let alone professional sports contracts.  For them, first things firsts means becoming rich jocks.  Chess champions seldom make comparable money.  As for the jocks, too many of them end up in jail for sponsoring dog-fighting rings.

Not me.   I'm afraid of pit bulls and concentrat on what I'm good at.  (eating!)