My twin brother and I have big heads. The first person to become painfully aware of this was my dear departed mother:
DOCTOR: Here comes your baby! It’s coming out butt-first. No, that’s not a butt. That’s a head!
MOM: Aargh!!
DOCTOR: Miracle of miracles, Mrs. Howell, here comes another one! You’re having twins! Aren’t you thrilled?
MOM: Aargh!!
Growing up, I always knew that I was, well, different. Hats didn’t fit, barbers would charge extra for haircuts, and photographs of us looked like a caricature artist had drawn them. In the summer, my brother and I entertained friends by walking into the bright sunshine, causing a partial eclipse.
My brother and I also had thick skulls. Whereas this was an impediment to learning, it helped us in not forgetting. Think of it this way. It might have been hard to drill something into our heads, but once there, it didn’t leak out. Not surprisingly, we were good at retaining “life lessons,” such as the one conveyed to us on the first day of Health Class in the 9th grade. Widely anticipated by us guys because of the purported titillating subject matter, it was taught by Mr. Sensitivity, Ken Loop. Mr. Loop was a quintessential 50 year-old ex-Marine. He had a butch haircut, barrel chest, and sailor tattoos. It was his job, by God, to teach us about sex, or more precisely, why we should never have it.
“What does this stand for?!” he thundered as he stood before the blackboard where he had written the letters “KPIP.” Before our thirty skulls full of naïve mush could create even one synapse, he bellowed out the answer: “Keep penis in pants! And don’t you forget it!”
I didn’t forget. I kept it safely in my pants for a really long time. Finally, as the World’s Oldest Virgin, and to prove that I was not gay, I married a woman with a smallish head, and coming full circle, proved that when you have a big head and you marry a woman with a small head, your kids come out with normal-sized heads!
If only my mom had known…