The Once and Future Southpaw

Although I'm right-handed (except for shooting things), when I was a young buck I held the fork with my left hand.  I don't really know why, I just did.  And something like every third dinner my dad would suddenly notice this as if for the first time; the look of shock on his face is the exact same one I picture he'd have if I'd told him I was gay.  He'd practically stutter through the exact same lines every time:

DAD: What the - why are you eating with your left hand?
XMASTIME: I don't know, I just do.
DAD: When the hell did this start?
XMASTIME: Oh, camon - WE JUST TALKED ABOUT THIS THREE DAYS AGO!
DAD: (now to my mother and with suspicion, as if my mother and I had hatched some evil plan to tilt the Earth off it's axis by my holding a fork with my left hand): Judith, did you know about this?


(Of course this was the exact same as the daily "when did you stop wearing socks?!?!??!!" fiasco.)

Throughout all those years, I was skinny and in shape.  Then for some reason, the second I hit college, I switched to my right hand, and we all know the results.  So I'm heartened by THIS POST:

A new study finds that using the non-dominant hand can significantly reduce the kind of habitual eating that many indulge in without even noticing.

I will definitely be making the switch back to lefty.