The week had gone in a blur of sugar, chocolate and grease. Wendy was lying in her bed, dreaming, as usual, of mountains of delicious food, when her mother gently woke her, rubbing her belly through the sheets. As her eyes slowly opened, she saw her mother was carrying her usual platter of pre-breakfast treats – a stack of pancakes glistening in butter, a huge pitcher of creamy milk, and a stack of peanut butter sandwiches. The tray was placed down at her side and she eagerly began to tuck in, shovelling the food into her mouth. After five minutes, the food was gone, but she was still hungry; she pulled open a draw on her bedside table and reached in, her fat fist pulling out a handful of candy bars. She eagerly unwrapped them, pushing them into her mouth and chewing on the chocolate and caramel.
“Breakfast!”
About the only thing that could convince Wendy to move quickly was food...she slid out of bed, still holding a candy bar in her hand, and waddled towards the door. The week had an obvious effect on her; her pyjama top was bulging at the seams, and a trace of belly could be seen reaching over her waistband. Moving through the door, she shoved the candy bar into her mouth and dropped into her seat. A huge platter, loaded with bacon, sausages, fried bread, and eggs was placed in front of her, along with a large fork; she eagerly began to dig in. A large bottle of coke was placed by her side that she took swigs from in between bites. As the tray began to empty, she gasped out, “More, Mom!”
“Wait honey, before I bring over your cereal, what do you want to do today?”
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