There Was Something About This Kid’s Head

So K. and I are in line at her school today. We are in this long ass line to get her car rider number for her year in first grade. So you know I’m cranky right? Here’s why:

• It’s hot as balls.
• I had to park so far away from the entrance because a zillion kids must go to this school and all have last names that start with the letters M-Z cause those were supposed to be the only kids registering between 12:30-3:00 and therefore, the parking lot was full.
• I was holding four shopping bags of school supplies in one hand and my only authentic bag (Dooney & Bourke) in the other. My arm was killing me.
• I hate standing in line.
• My boobs were swollen and huge due to the fact that my period is coming and I felt like everyone was looking at my boobs wondering why I didn’t do something about them…like leave them at home or in the car.
• And finally, I’m a bitch by nature and most people annoy me.

So the stage is set. I’m in a long ass line and I’m cranky and K. is standing at my side, playing Buffy the Vampire Slayer on her GameBoy Color and totally oblivious to such things as long lines, annoying soccer moms and whiny kids.

In front of me is a woman with four little boys, all under the age of 12 it looks like. She has short red hair, is really pale and I resist the urge to slap her in the back of the head with my purse for having four kids yet weighing the same as my six year old.

One little boy is in stroller and the oldest two have brown hair and are pacing around, also cranky that they have to stand in this long ass line. The youngest is in her arms and has the biggest head I’ve ever seen on a child. No, scratch that. A human. The biggest head I’ve ever seen on a human. Now, I love redheads. I think they are neck-in-neck in my book with brunettes as being most attractive. Not really into blonds. But, the thing with redheads is…when done right, they are gorgeous. Beautiful hair, porcelian skin, fiery eyes. When done wrong…well, we get the little boy in front of me.

His head was so big. How big was it, you ask? So big I kept staring trying to figure out if it was just a big head or a deformity. I mean, the forehead was a little protuding and his eyes looked a little vacant and mouth a little slack, but I couldn’t be sure. The two older, brown haired, and fortunate for them, father-like boys had big heads too. But, time was on their side as it seemed they were kind of growing into theirs. Even the mom had a big head. And to make matters worse, they all had really skinny necks and you wondered how those necks dealt with the burden.

Another lady with way too many kids gets in line behind me and it’s quickly apparent that she and big head lady know each other. They start gabbing and I get annoyed. Well, more annoyed. I try to shift so that they can talk and look at each other but leaning against the wall was helping to alleviate some of the strain of the bags and if I shifted just right, could obstruct my boobies from public view.

After a few minutes, there’s an announcement: someone needs to move their beige Toyota Corolla, it’s blocking a maintainence truck from leaving. Big head reaches in her purse, takes out an envelope and pen and tells one of her boys to, “Go do something very important for Mommy. Go to our blue Expedition and write down our Georgia license plate number and bring it back to me”

OK. Why did she have to say it all loud? To tell everyone she had an Expedition? I would imagine so to fit all them heads in there. I mean, did they all come in two separate vehicles that she felt the need to specify? And was one car from out of state? Can you tell how cranky I was?

So now that they have my attention again, it’s back to me trying not to stare at this poor child’s head. I’m wondering how on Earth she pushed them heads out and had just decided that she most definitely delivered through cesearean when the lady behind me asks the remaining older boy a question.

Lady: So, how’s your turtle?

BHB2: Fine

Lady: Does your turtle have a name?

I’m sorry, even I had to turn to look at her at this point with the same look on my face as the little boy when he answers yes. The look said, “What kind of stupid ass question is that?”

Big head boy 1 returns with the envelope and information and takes mutant baby from Mom’s arms so she can look at it. They kind of drift off around the corner, out of eyesight. I glance down at my own little one.

Many people have told me that they consider bi-racial children (black & white specifically) the most beautiful children. That they have the best of both worlds. Not sure exactly what that means? I guess they mean that if mixed right, they have that white look with just enough something extra tossed in to make them interesting or exotic. Or that they have that “good hair”. Who knows? Anyway, as I look at K., I’m suddenly thankful.

She’s wearing a blue tank top, a demin skirt and blue flip flops. Her long, silky black hair is in one neat braid down her back. Cocoa-complected looking every bit like a mini-Pochahontas. I lean down and kiss her on her normal size head.

At this moment, I hear this sound unlike anything I’ve heard. BHB1 returns with mutant baby and mutant baby is all red in the face and emitting this squeal/cry/moan. BHB1 tells Mom, that he fell on his head. I’m thinking, “Of course he did. There’s not much else to him”

I have never, ever, ever, ever heard a child cry (if you can call it that) like that. Have you ever seen V? It’s an old t.v show from the 80′s that I loved. Aliens come to Earth under the guise of friendship and peace. They look like us but underneath it turns out they are reptiles and want to eat us. One human girl gets knocked up by an alien boy before she knows about the whole scales and fork-tongued thing and has two babies. One normal, blond hair, blue eyed girl and one mini-reptile baby. Big head baby was making the same sounds that reptile baby made when he was born.

And that was all the confirmation I needed that that boy wasn’t human. I knew it!!!

Does The Tooth Fairy Know God?

So, Kali lost another tooth about two weeks ago.  I was on the phone with…not sure who…and she came running in proudly holding the tooth, her tongue peeking through the new gap.

That night Donny and I was up until about 2am watching Smallville. Around 8am the next morning, she came into our bedroom very upset. The tooth fairy never came!

Why?

Because Mommy and Daddy were up till 2am watching Smallville, remember? Pay attention, readers.

“I’m so sorry, Kali. That was Mommy’s fault. I was supposed to email her and tell her your tooth was ready and I forgot. I’ll do it today.”

That whole day Kali was dying to play with the tooth, and I told her several times to just leave it under the pillow. That night, while in bed watching t.v., or playing, or reading, when she should have been sleeping she managed to knock the tooth on the floor.  She comes downstairs crying that she can’t find it.

Sadly, had this not happened I would have again forgotten to slip some money under her pillow. I assured her that the tooth fairy would be able to find the tooth wherever it was in the room. That’s how she rolls. It’s her job.  A few hours later, Donny slipped a few bucks under the pillow, and the next morning all was right w/ the world.

Flash forward to last night. I’m on the computer in the study and Kali is sitting on the floor at my feet watching television when she suddenly asks me, “Do you like being brown?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I don’t know. Just wondering.”

For years Kali has wondered when she will be “brown like Mommy.” She will place her arm alongside mine as ask, “Am I brown yet?” I tell her that she may never be as brown as Mommy, and that’s okay. God her made the way she is and she’s special.  But she loves brown skin. The browner the better.

When I first explained to her what breastfeeding was a few years ago, she asked me if when I breastfed her my milk was chocolate because I’m brown.

Back to last night….

She pauses for a moment. Rubbing my bare leg and looking me up and down.

“Why do people call it black when it’s really brown?”

“Good question. I don’t know.”

“Does the tooth fairy know God?”

“Ummm, I think so.”

Why not, right? The Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, Cupid, Santa, Mother Goose, and God. They meet once a week for Texas Hold ‘Em. Can you imagine?

“Well, you should email the tooth fairy again, and tell her to tell God to change it from black people to brown people.”