The Ricker hates fat people.

I was reminded of this when I watched Little Miss Sunshine last week. In the movie, which I highly recommend, the father explains to his 8-year-old daughter that ice cream is fattening and that beauty queens probably didn't eat ice cream. The daughter is devastated, but through some careful manipulation by the rest of the family, she regains her appetite and finishes off the scoop.

I've received the same lecture from the Ricker, only he was meaner than Greg Kinnear's character. When walking around malls, the Ricker would actually point out fat people--usually loudly enough that the person heard him. It was embarrassing, but the Ricker didn't care. He didn't want a fat family. I'm actually surprised that my sister doesn't have some sort of eating disorder.

However, that's not to say that we emerged completely normal. I'm still nervous about eating sweets, which has been very difficult to overcome considering we live a few blocks from Magnolia Bakery, which has all the bomb frostings and the best cupcakes I've ever had. I count how many cookies I eat and stay under the suggested serving size. I can't eat a full scoop of ice cream without feeling guilty. I'm even scared of doughnuts, which is funny considering my brother owns a doughnut shop (is this his form of rebellion?). I calculate total fat grams and percentage of calories from fat based on nutritional labels. In fact, the Ricker used to set up quizzes for me by laying out boxes and cans of food. If the percentage of calories from fat was greater than 30%, I wasn't allowed to eat it. I grew up with low-fat or fat-free everything: soda, butter, sour cream, chips, ice cream. Now, I can't even eat a full-fat item (like a latte with whole milk) because the flavor is off. Maybe I'm the one with an eating disorder.

Thanks, Ricker, for my disorder: obesophobia.