Stupid-head

My brother used to wield that word as a weapon back when 3 year olds were saying *Bum* and such. A multi-syllabic insult was daunting indeed. *Stupidhead!*
Guess who the Stupidhead was? uh huh uh huh
Mom used to say: 'It's good luck dear. He calls you that because he loves you. Think of it as his own personal way of delivering good news to you'
Right, Mom.

When is a head-injury good? Never, of course. In my case we have a variety of injuiries to choose from and none of them brought goodluck. I seem to be a person who attracts accidents to the Head. The latest *stupidhead* adventure involved involuntary littering. Now we can't have that. So leaning out of my car and picking up the involuntary litter, being a good little citizen, I just had scooped up the item when ****wham****
The wind caught my very heavy car door and slammed it into my head.
I have a bruise the colour of green grass. It matches the colour of stars I saw for awhile.

I was bending down to get something from under the Pinball machine.
For about the 35th thousandth time, I misjudged the top and ****wham****
I stood up full velocity and force into the play table.
OUCH OUCH OUCH.

I have this vision that one day I hit my head lightly on a cupboard or brush gently past someone and my brains all spill out. Or I crack in half and the crackled dangling half is still cussing as it falls to the floor and splinters off to a zillion glittery gooey bits.

I took my stupidhead to the Esthetician. I was having a pedicure.
It was delightful. Especially the part where the person making me Estheticed said:
"WOW! Are you a boxer or something?"

uhm no.
She was commenting on the colours arraying on my temples and forehead matching the bruises on my toes. I did not know I had bruised toes. Must have been Mrs. Pureed Food's telephone she accidentally dropped on me while I was assisting her, hands full.

Good luck my Aunt Fanny.
Thanks Mom though.