The average American consumes between 2,500 and 3,500 calories in a Thanksgiving dinner — the equivalent of more than two large pepperoni pizzas. In today’s litigious society, the process server may soon show up at mom’s door with an obesity lawsuit, charging her with some form of intentional infliction of bloating.

Indeed, given the abundance of food at holiday parties and family gatherings, most people will gain two to six pounds over the holidays. With 65 percent of U.S. adults reportedly overweight or obese, the Center for Disease Control and Prevention has declared obesity the top health problem in our country.

Why can’t we find someone to blame for our weight gain? Certainly some of us overeat because we are victims, mistreated as children and therefore searching for solace. But we can’t sue mom, her purse is empty after all the post-Thanksgiving sales.

So "let’s dig deeper" proclaim the fans of Willy Wonka’s weight-challenged friend Augustus Gloop. Some will blame their chronic pregnancy-like state on big business, claiming it cleverly markets addictive food. Others will spew claims that the restaurant chains are at fault because in these belt-tightening times — at least economically — some Santa look-alikes cannot resist the temptation to gobble up those super-size portions for merely pennies more. With Americans spending a reported $105 billion on fast food each year, and almost one in four adults visiting a fast food restaurant daily, the potential for obesity lawsuits is oversized.

Fortunately, at least for the time being, some judicial restraint is being exercised outside of the trendy health clubs. So far, American courts have been unsympathetic to obesity lawsuits. Earlier this year, a million-dollar lawsuit brought by obese teenagers against McDonald’s was tossed out of court, with a U.S. District Court judge in New York ruling that the McLawsuit was doomed because we should all know that eating too much fast food is bad for us and "it is not the place of the law to protect [plaintiffs] from their own excesses."

Unfortunately, obesity lawsuits have caught the attention of more than just the trial bar, with an entire buffet of individuals intensifying their efforts to play nanny to the nation. For example, a bill was introduced last month in the U.S. House of Representatives that would require chains with 20 or more restaurants to provide nutritional data right on the menu. Similar legislation is expected to be introduced in the Senate. The legislation, it is reasoned, is needed because Americans cannot make healthy food choices without it. Try and find a five-year-old who doesn’t know where on the food pyramid a doughnut falls versus a piece of fruit. And, what about those of us who really just want to engorge in peace and blissful ignorance? What’s next, will Congress legislate that we have to engage in 30 minutes of cardiovascular activity every day?

What the legislation really smells like is an indirect way to impose liability on the restaurant chains where it could not otherwise be done directly. Surely it is difficult, if not impossible, for restaurants to accurately portray the nutritional information for a given item because portion sizes may vary. Indeed, the financial burden would be great and could negatively impact the already slim profit margins of many chains.

Voluntary attempts by national chains to alert the public to the nutritional data about their products recently have come under close scrutiny. Last month, Kentucky Fried Chicken received a civil subpoena from the Federal Trade Commission, asking the chain to explain and justify the health claims in a recent advertising campaign. KFC defended its ads, saying they "simply set the record straight by providing consumers the facts about KFC’s Original Recipe fried chicken and how it can be part of a balanced diet." But the ever-vigilant (to media opportunity) Center for Science in the Public Interest, which purportedly lit the fire under the FTC to conduct the investigation, said the ads were "outrageous" because KFC’s fried-chicken meals are "unhealthful and clearly difficult to fit into a healthy, balanced diet."

Let’s remember that quote when the next consumer-conscious group files its obesity lawsuit against KFC. Perhaps there is something other than food coming out of both sides of their mouths.

With little success thus far in the courtrooms, the ideologues are in search of new menu options to impose liability on the food industry, but the First Amendment has long stood for the principle that the dissemination of fact-based truthful information cannot be the basis for legal liability in general. Our constitutional protections will be swallowed up unless we continue to oppose statutes and lawsuits that subvert free speech principles by conditioning liability upon alleged "misleading" nature, rather than proven falsity, of commercial speech. Legislative efforts to mandate nutritional disclosures and regulatory investigations of free speech advertisements constitute nothing more than incremental steps down the litigation path.

Slowing that trek, however, could be the liability "waivers" that are popping up all over America. For example, the Center for Consumer Freedom developed "Thanksgiving Obesity Liability Waivers," a tongue-in-cheek document designed to protect hosts from lawsuits filed against them by their guests. The waiver limits a host’s liability for "1. Failure to provide detailed nutritional information; 2. Failure to warn of the potential for overeating because food tastes too good and is provided at no cost; 3. Failure to offer 'healthier alternatives' or vegetarian 'Tofurkey'; 4. Failure to provide information about other venues serving alternative, 'healthier' Thanksgiving meals; 5. Failure to warn that dark meat contains more fat than white meat; and 6. Failure to warn that eating may lead to obesity."

A similar waiver is required at a Seattle restaurant, the 5 Spot, before a patron can devour the "bulge," a 4,000 calorie dessert concocted of a banana that’s battered, rolled in sugar, deep-fried, and then covered with Madagascar vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, caramel sauce, hot fudge, macadamia nuts and a little sugar on top. Co-owner Jeremy Hardy said they came up with the idea because they wanted accountability to fall on the patron and not on the business.

Maybe waivers in hand would prevent people from filing frivolous lawsuits blaming restaurants for making them obese and from claiming they "did not know the nutritional value." At a minimum, maybe indemnifications will make them eat their words.