Heads Up

Jason comes from a family of big heads. I'm not being mean. They literally have big heads. There's a reason why adjustable caps state "One size fits most." Jason's dad has met his share of caps that don't.

I, on the other hand, have a small head. I cinch adjustable hats up so far, there's always a flap sticking out the back. I can wear kid-sized caps. Eyeglass shopping is a nightmare--first I look for the smallest frames, then I choose from those what I like. I currently own a pair of frames that came from the children's rack. I very rarely put my hair up because it accentuates my little head--and I think I look funny.

My kids tend to take after me. They've consistently fallen into the 25th percentile for head circumference. Our pediatrician was quick to point out that it had no correlation to their intelligence level--until he realized it didn't bother me.

And then came Noah. In the moments before his birth, I became aware (it would be appropriate to say painfully aware) that he was going to be quite different from his siblings in at least one way--he has a big head. Big, as in 90th percentile big. Big, as in people comment on it all the time. We've told him since the day he was born that he had a Charlie Brown head--big, round and mostly bald. So when I found this t-shirt on the clearance rack, I had to buy it.
I hope he doesn't grow up with a complex.