I found a dent in my skull.
Cue the panic while I frantically Google the ramifications of this on my health for the next 60 years – regardless of the fact that I’ve made it to 37 years of age without suffering any side effects.
Thankfully the panic subsided and I was able to concentrate on the next important task – figuring out who to blame for this travesty of a misshapen skull. Obviously, I suffered some form of trauma in my childhood.
I have several theories and none of them paint my parents in a flattering light.
My first theory is related to my Top Gun obsession. I was born in the early 1980s and I used to watch Top Gun daily – don’t judge me, everyone was watching it daily back then! That Maverick was beautiful and then there was Ice Man, who I hated and loved with equal breath. Goose, well, he was indeed a bit of a goose in the lineup of handsome swans on the screen. My skull bashing theory is that the movie came on the tv and in my excitement I dive-bombed out of my mother’s arms to race over and hug the screen.
Thanks, mom. Keep a better grip next time!
My second theory is that my skull was dented in a playful incident gone terribly wrong. My father was likely tossing me into the air while I clapped my chubby hands and shrieked with delight. Then, when I demanded more, and more, and more, my father inadvertently threw me just a bit too high – causing me to hit my head into the old popcorn ceiling we had. Those ceilings didn’t just ‘go out of fashion’ like we all assumed.
The dented kid head was a potential lawsuit waiting to happen!
My final theory, which I think is the most plausible, is that my parents were part of a secret government experiment to make humans appear more alien-like. You know, to better blend in during the eventual hostile takeover of our planet.
It explains so much about my childhood….