The Chinese kid that shares my belly

"Eat your vegetables. There are kids starving in China!" That's what my mom would say when I wouldn't eat my vegetables or finish my rice. Everybody knows that Chinese kids like rice, and through some loophole in my mother's logic, she has determined that if I clean my plate, certain inequities will be leveled, transferring the extra food in my belly to youthful Chinese bellies until those kids have to let out their belts along with me (assuming they actually wear belts in China).

I certainly hope they have pockets in China because that's where the food ended up half of the time...except for creme corn because that tended to run down my leg. I just couldn't figure out why mom made those extra vegetables instead of something good like fried chicken or cake. What good are veggies when you have Centrum or One-A-Day? I told her that I was sure those kids would rather share my belly full of cake and chicken nuggets than some smelly brocoli any day.

I used to stay awake some nights, worried that Chinese kid who shared my belly might eat something I was allergic to. Later, I would go on to have thoughts of applying for some kind of Chinese-American scholarship or at least some government aid, since I was eating for two.

There was always too much to eat. Forget about fruits and veggies, I needed vitamin "M" in large quantities. That's right, meat. If Mr. Atkins was the meat devil, he'd find no better playground ripe for sin than America. Our god has a first name. It's O.S.C.A.R. He has a second name. It's M.E.Y.E.R. - M.E... me... Y... why me? E.R...why am I in the ER? Probably because my veins are clogged with animal butter from my daily dose of the meat IV. Maybe I'm exaggerating a little...