chapter 3

I allowed myself to be led around and introduced to different family members, each of whom seemed to have some snack for me to try. By the time dinner was called, I had already eaten a fair amount. When I sat down at the table I was quite aware of just how tight my jeans were as my belly flopped over the waistband.

Everyone just smiled and laughed when Lindsey started piling food onto my plate. It was like I was in some weird episode of the Twilight Zone. I didn't protest, even when my plate was close to overflowing.

I ate steadily, engaging in conversation with the people around me, each of whom was incredibly pleasant. It was actually so much fun that I almost didn't even notice Lindsey adding more food to my plate each time a dish was passed. I ate and ate and ate, but still didn't manage to make more than a dent.

At one point, as I was starting to get quite full, I leaned back in my chair for a breather.

"Oh, looks like you need more room, babe," Lindsey said.

Then she reached over and popped open the button on my jeans. Right in front of everybody!

Of course all these weirdos just chuckled and okay, yes, I did feel better but still . . . just 'cause I was turning into a fatty didn't mean I wanted everyone to see with my pants undone.

As I continued to eat I realized that the pressure of my expanding middle was forcing the zipper of my jeans down now that the button wasn't keeping them closed. It was a rather embarrassing situation but I was much too full to even think of trying to button them back up. I only hoped I would have a chance to get up from the table without anyone seeing my pathetic state.

Finally, at last, the meal started to wind down. Lindsey stopped refilling my plate, which was good because I was so full I couldn't even take a deep breath. She reached over again and began massaging my stuffed belly, her fingers expertly soothing the ache and relieving the discomfort.

The combination of an overfull stomach and Lindsey's ministrations were enough to make me rather drowsy, so much so that I barely noticed when the table was cleared and a clean plate was set in front of me.

"Who's ready for dessert?" asked Lindsey's mom.

"I know Brittany is," Lindsey said, pressing against my stomach without warning.

A belch escaped my lips suddenly, causing everyone to laugh as I blushed bright red. I felt like an absolute pig but couldn't deny that both the pumpkin and apple pie looked delicious. Lindsey of course served me a large hunk of both, complete with ice cream as well.

I ate slowly, each bite sliding down my throat to join the mass of food that was responsible for my record-breaking food baby. My entire universe was narrowed to a single focal point - the plate of dessert in front of me. Everything had been reduced to the simple action of scoop up a bite, deliver it to mouth, chew, swallow, repeat.

And then it was done. Empty plate, full Brittany. Hell, full was a completely inadequate word to convey the way I felt at that moment. Packed to the eyebrows only scratched the surface. Full to bursting was a bit closer. In that moment I felt like I was 90% belly, just a huge, heavy orb.

"Now stand up and show us," Lindsey told me.

I stared at her dumbly.

"Stand up," she repeated, indicating a rising motion with her hands. "You have to show us your belly after Thanksgiving. It's tradition!"

I was too far gone to question the absurdity of that statement. Lindsey actually had to help me to my feet, I remembered too late that my jeans were completely unzipped. A cool breeze alerted me to the embarrassing fact that a portion of my gut was hanging out for all to see.

I vaguely registered light cheering and laughter as I displayed my outrageously swollen midsection for all to see. Lindsey grinned ear to ear as she took my picture with her cell phone.

"Now up with the shirt!" she exclaimed.

My face must have conveyed my confusion.

"Lift up your shirt, silly. We need to have a good look at your belly."

At this point I was sure that I must have fallen asleep and was now in the middle of some ridiculous dream. Figuring it would be best to just go along with the insane narrative, I took the hem of my sweater and lifted it up so my faux-prego belly was revealed in all its grotesque glory.

"Okay, she's been a good sport, take her up to lie down," Lindsey's mom told her.

With her support, I waddled up to her old bedroom where she laid me down on a twin bed after removing every stitch of clothing. I groaned softly, unable to move, completely and utterly beached.

"You did such a good job," Lindsey congratulated me. "I think you deserve a special reward."

She squirted some lotion onto her hands and began rubbing into the overtaxed skin stretched tight across my abdomen. Bit by bit the discomfort lessened, and soon I sank down into a deep slumber.

A few hours later Lindsey woke me up as it was time to head home. She helped me get dressed again as I still couldn't really bend at the middle. There was no hope of buttoning my jeans back up, so I just pulled the sweater down as far as possible. After hugs and goodbyes with her family, I waddled out to the car, feeling a good 20 pounds heavier than when I arrived.