“Reach for the sky,” he says.
With some effort, I lift up my pudgy little arms as far as they’ll go
I wait expectantly, grinning ear to ear
He glances at my round, chubby belly
Cracking a smile, he reaches down to give it a squeeze before pulling off my shirt
The soft fabric gently brushes my silky skin
He gives me a wet kiss on my cheek and a raspberry on my tummy
And pulls a fresh shirt over my head

“Reach for the sky,” he says.
I lift up my arms high above my head
He looks down
“You better start watching yourself”
“What? What do you mean?”
He squeezes the squishy beneath my bellybutton
Shakes his head disapprovingly
Looks around, avoiding my gaze and my obesity
And pulls a fresh shirt over my head
I feel my warm tears stain the fabric

“Reach for the sky,” he says.
I lift up my arms – now toned, well muscled
He looks down, gives me a slight nod of approval
Presses his hand above my navel
When it doesn’t sink, he presses harder, then
Pulls away to reveal faintly outlined abs
He throws me a shirt from across the room and leaves, saying nothing
I pull a fresh shirt over my head
A little smile tugs at the corners of my mouth

“Reach for the sky,” he says.
I lift up my arms
He looks down, noticing
Streaks of angry red that grace my sides
My once again swollen belly
“God damn it, Jay, you’ve gained weight again”
“Shut up, okay? I know. I’m working on it”
“You’re fat – no girl’s ever going to like you like this”
“Leave me alone, Dad”
I pull a fresh shirt over my head
Glad to hide my shame beneath fabric.

“Reach for the sky,” she says.
I lift up my arms – they’re strong
Even if I can’t always see the individual muscles
I look down, I see
A strong chest, strong stomach
Masked by a shallow layer of insulation that spills over my waistband
Her hands move against my skin

No need to pull a fresh shirt over my head
A little smile tugs at the corners of my mouth