Last Saturday, my brothers, my mother, and I along with our spouses went to the Oakland Temple to celebrate my mother's belated birthday. We rode together in David and Laurie's car, affectionately nicknamed, "The Beast." David had thoughtfully provided donuts for our ride up to prevent the rumbly in our tumbly feeling. (That was a reference to Winnie the Pooh, by the way.)
About ten minutes after the donuts were handed out, my brother Daniel loudly asked, "OK, who has finished their doughnut by now?"
Everyone raised their hand. Except me.
"What a surprise!" Daniel exclaimed.
I"m always the last one to finish. Because I enjoy my food!
There was much teasing until I said, "You should be kind to me. My friends have discovered that I have a medical condition known as fletcherizing."
OK, maybe it's not TECHNICALLY a medical condition, but to fletcherize \FLECH-uh-rahyz\ means "To chew food slowly and thoroughly." That's me!
Back in Stockton, everyone KNEW how slowly I ate. I was given special consideration at ward socials.
"Loralee needs to be at the FRONT of the line so she can finish eating before the program starts."
I was given special consideration at girls camp.
"The group doing Pearl Divers will eat first and oh, yeah, that old lady over there, too"
This is not a new condition by any means. From the time I was a young tot I made sure that each bite was thoroughly chewed. I was always the last one in my family to finish eating. And when anyone asked why I was taking so long I replied, "I enjoy my food."
Now, I have entered a new phase in my life--a new ward that doesn't realize how special I am!
My Stockton friends thoughtfully suggested that I make a "handicapped" placard and wear it around my neck for ward socials so I can have preferential treatment. They have suggested that I have a special table reserved where no one disturbs me while I am eating. They have even offered to put a public service announcement in my ward bulletin, educating people to my condition. so that they won't tease or judge me harshly! Don't I have great friends?
Personally, I think we should have a combined Relief Society/Young Women lesson on the joys of eating slowly so that we all might learn to thoroughly chew our food so that we can enjoy every morsel--every bite.
Won't you fletcherize with me?
Oh, Mom-Mom. You're too funny! You should take them up on that ward bulletin announcement. :)
ReplyDeleteYou know, I think this is just the kind of human interest story that Oprah might be interested in. She could have Dr. Oz on and you could be there on the show to explain your personal experiences with Fletcherizing and how it has affected you all of your life. The hazing, the ridicule, etc. Maybe Dr. Phil could be on there too.
ReplyDeleteIt is her very last year for the show and I just KNOW Oprah would want to try to help in any way she could. I'll write a letter. You don't need to thank me, Loralee. I KNOW how grateful you are.
Perhaps with Oprah, Dr. Oz AND Dr. Phil working with me, I could overcome my Fletcherizing problem once and for all! And if that's not possible, perhaps we could educate the rest of the world to be more sensitive and kind to us unfortunate people.
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