Baby Huey’s Beginning

Posted on May 8, 2013

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Let’s start at the beginning.

The Original Baby Huey - Paramount Pictures

The Original Baby Huey – Paramount Pictures

Mine.

It happened on March 3rd in the year of our Lord AD 1970.

I was a large presence on my debut, weighing 11lbs, 9ozs and the story of my birth is one my mother tells with great relish.

My mother was in labor, actually in the delivery room, for 23 and 1/2 hours.

I ripped my way out of her uterus, sorta like the monster from the Alien movies, afterwards she had to be stitched back up from chin to ankle.

My younger brothers were big babies too, each over ten pounds apiece, but after me mom says they just sorta fell out.

Nowadays, NFL linebacker sized newborns are fairly common, but as the 70’s dawned American children had yet to be super-sized by corn based syrup and chicken steroids, my leviathan proportions were so unusual the nursery window became a tourist attraction, and not just for other doctors, nurses and orderlies.

The hospital accountants, security guards, housekeeping staff, even the cafeteria crew made the pilgrimage to see the bouncing Baby Huey occupying the nursery.

As word of my fat-fame grew, people who worked at the bank across the street, tellers and bank executives alike, crossed the road to gape at me.

I don’t remember it, but I’m sure I loved it. The seeds of my self-obsession were planted righted at birth, call it Early-Onset Narcissism. 

I just kept getting bigger. In every single one of my class photos I appear to be a small teacher, towering, looming like a giant over the other kids.

My very first day of first grade the poor handyman at Swartz Elementary was forced to fetch me a desk from a 4th grade classroom.

I felt special and of course I enjoyed the attention my size brought me.

Till the very next day, that’s when being a big old boy bit me in the butt.

It was after school, I was on my way home, riding Bus # 210 when a 5th grader by the name of Billy Joe decided I would make a good punching bag.

I was 6, he was 11 – but due to my gargantuan proportions he was actually a little smaller than me.

Unfortunately my size didn’t prevent him from kicking my big ass up one side and down the other of Bus # 210.

I went home battered and bruised sporting a brand-new black eye and also a brand-new inferiority complex.

It’s tough being a gigantic wimp but somehow I’ve managed for five decades.

That’s how it all started.

Fair warning; my story gets progressively weirder, stay tuned.

If you dare. Or if you don’t find it too boring…

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