The Head of the House
When I stood at the foot of the museum staircase and knew that Patrick was standing behind me, and turned around to see him for the first time, I was conscious of two, overlapping thoughts:
My life is over. My life can begin.
Once my heart resumed beating, other, more sensory observations began to register. His face was deeply lined and weathered, and would have seemed ancient, except for the shining yellow hair that fell to his shoulders and the little boy grin. He was impossibly thin back then. Wiry. He had large hands with elegant fingers. He was wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt and white sneakers.
Nowhere among those first impressions did I notice that he has an enormous cranium.
And nor would you, for it is handsome and well-proportioned, and rests unobtrusively on its owner's shoulders. But upon having it pointed it out to you, if you were to stand up and walk all the way around it, you would realize, Sweet Mother of GOD, that's an enormous cranium. Patrick claims it is a sign of his advanced evolution. Maybe. Maybe not. I claim that my long second toe is a sign of superior intelligence, but my mother-in-law said it just means I'm bossy.
Two of our three sons have inheirited the Enormous Cranium. This wasn't such a big deal when I gave birth to the first, who was four weeks early and a mere six pounds. The second, nine pounds and four ounces at full term, had to be delivered by emergency C-section. Both their heads were consistently in the 90th percentile for circumference. I called them my Bobblehead Babies. They were both late to learn to walk; fourteen and fifteen months. We worried that they might be delayed, until we realized they had to get strong enough to balance their heads on their little shoulders.
They are handsome boys. They don't look like Bobbleheads. But as toddlers, they had to wear Youth size bike helmets. My husband also has a difficult time with headgear. Baseball caps need to be worn on the outer notch. Non-stretchy, non-adjustable styles that fit are rare. So when he asked me to knit him a winter cap a few weeks ago, I thought I better adjust the pattern size.
I may have overcompensated.
My life is over. My life can begin.
Once my heart resumed beating, other, more sensory observations began to register. His face was deeply lined and weathered, and would have seemed ancient, except for the shining yellow hair that fell to his shoulders and the little boy grin. He was impossibly thin back then. Wiry. He had large hands with elegant fingers. He was wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt and white sneakers.
Nowhere among those first impressions did I notice that he has an enormous cranium.
And nor would you, for it is handsome and well-proportioned, and rests unobtrusively on its owner's shoulders. But upon having it pointed it out to you, if you were to stand up and walk all the way around it, you would realize, Sweet Mother of GOD, that's an enormous cranium. Patrick claims it is a sign of his advanced evolution. Maybe. Maybe not. I claim that my long second toe is a sign of superior intelligence, but my mother-in-law said it just means I'm bossy.
Two of our three sons have inheirited the Enormous Cranium. This wasn't such a big deal when I gave birth to the first, who was four weeks early and a mere six pounds. The second, nine pounds and four ounces at full term, had to be delivered by emergency C-section. Both their heads were consistently in the 90th percentile for circumference. I called them my Bobblehead Babies. They were both late to learn to walk; fourteen and fifteen months. We worried that they might be delayed, until we realized they had to get strong enough to balance their heads on their little shoulders.
They are handsome boys. They don't look like Bobbleheads. But as toddlers, they had to wear Youth size bike helmets. My husband also has a difficult time with headgear. Baseball caps need to be worn on the outer notch. Non-stretchy, non-adjustable styles that fit are rare. So when he asked me to knit him a winter cap a few weeks ago, I thought I better adjust the pattern size.
I may have overcompensated.
Labels: marriage
—Kyran, 6:49 AM
←SHARE THIS
8 Comments:
i am laughing so hard i may never be able to stop
Too Funny, the picture reminds me of one of Fat Albert's buddies, just make two eye holes!
Sadly I too suffer from large cranium-itis. If this hat becomes a prototype for further endeavors, patent your design and I will buy two! :)
It's true, I have an enormous noggin.
Just you try finding a fitted cap in the siz 7 7/8ths.
I could have sworn I left a comment on this post before! Did it get lost? Is Blogger eating my comments? Did I accidentally write a horrible swearword and have it deleted? Waaaaaah!!
Marmite, friendly four letter words are perfectly alright. :)
I don't know what happened to it. Try again.
Ha! That hat is great :)
The long second toe is a family trait. Uncle Dennis had it and your cousin Kim has it. They were and are very intelligent people so maybe that's what it means.
i want to have a enormous cranium showdown with patrick. and of course, this is a sign of our advanced evolution!!!
when i was in high school and we were measuring our heads for graduation caps, i was mortified that my head size was on par with the linebackers on our football team. no hat has fit my head since without serious spandex or a special order.
:)
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.
<< Home