Big Melons

My oldest was just a baby when our pediatrician measured his head during a routine exam and looked alarmed.

"His head is huge," she said.

After measuring both boys again, she said, "I think you ought to take them to a specialist."

We were immediately sent to a doctor at Harvard who then rushed us over to Children's Hospital because they suspected hydrocephalus. After a frightening afternoon running my newborn sons all over Boston and Cambridge, doctors decided they were healthy and fine. No disease - just big noggins. One specialist even measured my own head and smiled.

"It's genetic," he said. "Apparently from you."

Great. The boys inherited my big head and appreciation for fart jokes. They'll do fine. After a few years, they grew into their skulls and lost that E.T. look. Now, the only downside is finding a hat that fits properly. And today, my youngest also discovered that it's not wise to go under the bed - or anywhere else for that matter - face first.

"Mommy, I'm stuck!" he yelled.

Which is worse: being unable to get out from under your bed or having a parent document the humiliation?

Relax, I lifted the bed and got him out of there. This photo will be used to justify years of therapy, I'm sure.