This choice: Timmy pushes himself to eat as much as possible! • Go Back... Normally dinner between Timmy and Greg is a social event. The two talk about their days, specifically Timmy's time at school and if Greg had any interesting moments while Timmy was there. This time however, there wasn't much talk, mostly because whenever Greg would ask Timmy a question he would respond with a very short, three word answer. Timmy was too busy stuffing his face!
"Wow, you didn't tell me you were this hungry!" Greg said after Timmy slurped down the last spaghetti on his plate.
"Yep, I'm super hungry!" Timmy grinned. He wasn't ACTUALLY hungry, in fact he was quite full. He just wanted to make a glutton out of himself.
"Well then I'll get us both some more, ok?" Greg got up to refill their plates. Greg always got seconds for dinner, so Timmy was happy he could match his dad.
"Thanks, Dad!" Timmy said as he rubbed his stuffed stomach to prepare for the next round. However, when his dad returned with plates, his portion of pasta had doubled!
"I figured if you're extra hungry you can finish this!" Greg said, smiling. It wasn't a challenge, but Greg sometimes forgets that not every shares his appetite.
"Of course! I'm gonna eat it all!" Timmy said, staring at the mountain of carbs on his plate. He picked up his fork and twisted up some spaghetti, but when he brought it to his mouth he felt his urge to stuff dwindle. He downed it in a few chews and gulps and he felt the pasta his his gut like a rock, he was so full. 20 minutes of fighting to eat passed and Timmy had, impressively, finished most of the pasta on the table.
"Huh, I thought you were hungry." Greg said, eyeing his son clutch his belly and moan softly. "You ok there? What ever happened to beating me?" He teased, folding his arms across his gut.
"Nooo, I can do it..." Timmy groaned. He picked his fork up weakly and stabbed at his plate, missing the pasta entirely. Greg heaved himself up from his chair with a grunt and reached over with his own fork, scooping up a forkful of his son's dinner.
"Guess I'll just finish it then..." He said, bring the forkful to his own mouth, but Timmy protested.
"Nooooooo, I can do it! I can do it..." Timmy whined, reaching at him.
Greg sighed and shook his head, smirking. "Fine, open up." He lowered the forkful into Timmy's open maw and the boy chewed for half a minute before swallowing. He then opened his mouth again, expectantly. Greg raised an eyebrow but went along with his son's game. He picked up the plate and scraped the last chunk of pasta into Timmy's mouth, letting his son chew it and swallow.
"I... win..." Timmy sighed, panting. "So... dessert...?"
Greg laughed. "No, I think you've had enough, little pig. Let's get you to bed, you look exhausted." Greg scooped Timmy up in his beefy arms and carried him into his room, laying him on his bed. "Night, little pig." He said as he closed the door.
"Night, big pig!" Timmy called back at him as the door closed. He waited a moment afterwards before getting up out of his bed and waddling over to his mirror. Timmy lifted up his shirt and stuck out his belly. It looked rounder, being stuffed to it's limit. It pressed against the waist of his jeans and made him look pregnant. "That's more like Dad..." he said to himself, patting it lightly. "Big pig..."   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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