Friday, March 15, 2013

Towhead. Toe-thumbs. Thumb-head.

While we were getting dinner ready the girls were trying to help but were mostly running around bumping into things. No sooner had Rachel stubbed her toe and begun wailing than did Miriam slam her fingers in the silverware drawer. Her screaming brought Andrew running from his desk (Rachel's were, I suppose, less panic-inducing). He scooped her up into her arms and attempted to introduce some humor in order to dry her tears.

"What finger did you smash?" he asked.

"All of them!" she wailed.

"On both hands!?" he gasped in mock alarm.

"No, just this one!" she sniffed.

"Just this thumb?"

"No! All of my fingers on this hand!" she said, dangling her arm in front of his face.

"Well, how'd your toes get in the drawer?!"

"Not my toes!" she giggled.

"Oh, I see. Not your toes. A wisp of tow!" said Daddy, quoting Brothers Karamazov and tousling Miriam's golden locks. "My little towhead."

"I'm not a toe-head," Miriam insisted.

"If she's a toe-head, what am I?" Rachel interjected. "A finger-head?"

"No. You're just a brunette," Andrew said. "But Mommy's got toe-thumbs" he pointed out.

"Then I'm a thumb-head!" Miriam said with finality, sticking her thumb in her mouth and talking around it. "See?"

"And I'm a finger-head!" Rachel declared.

"There's no such thing!" Andrew objected. "Towhead doesn't even refer to body parts at all—it just means yellowish hair!"

But his protest did no good. It's quite possible our children went to bed thinking that blondes are toe-heads and brunettes are thumb-heads.

No comments:

Post a Comment