With a Shirt on His Head

I was trying to change Troy's shirt today, so that we could go to the park. However, I had only gotten the shirt over his face before he took off running. The shirt was still on the top of his head like a turban, arm holes flapping to the sides, half-naked baby giggling underneath. As I gave chase, I was reminded of a strange image of me doing the same thing when I was in high school, except I was the one with underwear on my head running around the house.

I would take showers at night, and as is usually the way with life I would start to head to the shower and then things would come up to distract me. People would want to talk. I would need to do something. I would think of something and want to do it before I forgot. Well, I would be carrying my underwear around, since I was originally on the way to the shower, and I didn’t want to lay them down somewhere because then I might forget where I put them. So, I started putting them on my head. Frees up the hands, and you can always find them again.

This, of course, caused quite a stir in the house, seeing me walking around with my whitey-tighties on my head. The crotch flying out in the back like a cape as I raced through the room. Tufts of brown hair sticking through the leg holes. Someone even commented once that I looked like a pharaoh. Of course, that was back in the day when my waist and my head were the same size. If I tried that now, my underwear would just droop down over my face.

So, seeing Troy running around with his little shirt on his head, arm holes flapping behind him like a cape brought back some good memories. I guess he's carrying on the torch! Or "CTRL-C, CTRL-V," as my brother-in-law would say.