This morning, I accidentally hit my head on the side of the bedroom door, as I squeezed through on my way to the bathroom. Checking myself in the mirror for bruising, I noticed something. My head is enormous! I don’t think I ever realized how big my head is in proportion to the rest of my body. I almost look like I have a beach ball with a face, attached to my neck. No wonder it’s been taking me two hours, and three razor blades to shave, and I’ve been going through a case of aspirin a month. I hadn’t thought too much about my head size, but yesterday, a kid at the mall pointed in my direction and yelled,
“Look mommy, it’s a giant bobble-head doll.”
I guess, I did have some clues in my past that my head was extremely large when compared to normal human beings. I remember in high school, I once won an award, and was told by the presenter to take all my achievements in stride, and not get a big head. I then heard three people in the audience yell out,
“It’s too late.”
The more and more I observe my head in the bathroom mirror, and touch my face, I realize something else. I either have teeny tiny baby hands, or my head is much bigger than I thought. I don’t usually complain, but my head is so big, I don’t have a forehead – it’s more like an eight-head. If I tell someone, I need to rest my head, it probably means, I need to sleep for three or four days. I just noticed something else. My neck muscles are gigantic, and powerful – like one of those rampaging bulls you see each year, in Pamplona, Spain. I guess, they’d have to be pretty strong to balance, what looks to be about a hundred and twenty pounds of bone and hair.
For all you people out there with rather over-sized, ponderous, and freakishly large heads; those of you who are sometimes mistaken for a giant baby, and those unlucky enough to spend days pulling migrating geese from their hair – I feel your pain.
Now that I think about it, maybe my head isn’t so big. I can still fit through doors, and can comb my hair in under an hour. It could just be out of proportion with the rest of my body. Maybe my lower body is incredibly small and compact, due to that terrible incident when my legs accidentally slipped into a cosmic black hole. Maybe my head isn’t that big, but just looks that way, because I have skinny legs, and a small torso.
Let me pull out my hundred-foot tape measure, and see if I can get a few dimensions on this big boy. Hmmmmm……… No, my heads gargantuan. The good news is, you know what they say about guys with big heads. Oh, wait a minute. That’s big feet. Oh crap!
After staring at my big head for a while, I decided to write a list of things, which may mean you have a big head. Ask yourself these questions. When you’re on an airplane, does your head get charged for two seats? Did you take out a second mortgage to buy a ski hat last winter? Have astronomers trained their telescopes on your head figuring they’d discovered an unknown planet? Do you buy head and shoulder’s shampoo by the case? Does your leaf rake double as a comb? Do you have to vacuum up your dandruff? Do you wash your hair at car washes? Does a haircut cost you two hundred dollars? If you’ve answered yes to all these questions; welcome to the club. You are not alone my friend.
I guess there are some advantages to having a big head. It’s probably easy to save a place in line for friends while waiting to buy concert tickets. I’ll bet big-headed people never get mugged. Criminals sneaking up on them in the dark, must figure there’s three or four people walking close together, and look for easier victims. You know, you’ll never fall down a flight of steps, and break your neck. Heck, you could probably butt heads with longhorn sheep and knock them senseless.
Well, I guess, I’ll just have to live with my big head. On the bright side, maybe this year, I can save some money during the Halloween season. With my large head, I have a ready-made costume. I’ll just have my wife spray paint my head orange, stick a candle in my mouth, and go as a jack-o-lantern.