I am not what most people would deem a “planner.” Breakfast is a gamble, my daily wardrobe is decided by the criteria of “dirty” and “clean,” and sometimes, I miss a week or two with the razor. So it may come as no surprise that just hours shy of Halloween, I do not have a costume.
Call it a lack of creativity, a lack of foresight, or both, but even with the promise of copious amounts of chocolate spoils, I just can’t get my ass in gear. I have always found myself slightly jealous of shapely women who can slap on cat ears and tights, insert the word “slutty” in the title, and poof, with the wave of the scantily clad wand, a costume emerges, free drinks in hand. Fortunately, my days of slinking around as a sexy kitten are over, as I meow maintain a physique that demands coverage. So that begs the (age-old?) question – what do fat kids do on Halloween?
Well, if they live in North Dakota, they best not ring “Cheryl’s” doorbell. While she refused to provide her last name, this Fargo resident will be offering something more repugnant than candy this Halloween – her opinion. At the discretion of her trained eye, Cheryl will be handing out letters to young trick-or-treaters that she deems more subcutaneously gifted than their slimmer counterparts.
The thesis of her letter reads, “You (sic) child is, in my opinion, moderately obese and should not be consuming sugar and treats to the extent of some children this Halloween season. My hope is that you will step up as a parent and ration candy this Halloween and not allow your child to continue these unhealthy eating habits.” (It seems all 3rd grade editors were unavailable at the time of publication.) In a follow-up radio interview, Cheryl blamed the parents of the meaty masqueraders, stating, “I think it’s just really irresponsible of parents to send them out looking for free candy just ‘cause all the other kids are doing it.” Eloquent and educated.
Now I am not going to dismiss the consequences of obesity, as I have witnessed negative effects of added pounds on both clinical and personal levels. In the body mass arena, it is fair to say that to some degree, less is more. But Cheryl’s letter begs a much more pertinent question: “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”
In an era when body image judgments are a staple of the daily diet, why not inflict additional damage by handing a pudgy princess a “fat letter” in lieu of candy as a reminder that her shape is unacceptable and her parents are doing a poor job? Maybe every “Dora the Explorer” should be given an INS interview in place of Reeses’? Last time I checked, most people who are obese are very well aware of that fact, even at a young age. Unsolicited reminders of a condition are often equally unnecessary and unwelcome.
Being a kid is not easy. And being “different” from your peers is certainly no picnic. At an age when venom is spewed by childhood counterparts from every possible angle, the unwanted opinion of the adult do-gooder down the block only adds insult to injury. While everyone is entitled to an opinion, not all opinions are valid, especially when they convey a misguided message.
So on behalf of Trick or Treaters both thick and thin, Go Fuck Yourself, Cheryl. You have two months to come up with a better idea to ruin Christmas. Perhaps crucify Santa while serving low-fat reindeer jerky? Until then, cancel that print job, switch off your porch light, and leave Halloween to those who appreciate its magic.
Text of the letter borrowed from N.D. woman to hand out “fat letters” to obese kids during Halloween by Michelle Castillo appearing on October 30, 2013 on CBS News.com.