Last Easter my parents and I were standing in the courtyard of their church waiting for the early service to adjourn when this boy walked out of the sanctuary. About nine years old, clean cut, tiny suit, shiny shoes, tied tie. Good looking kid. Doing Easter proud. Except! He had a full-sized bed pillow on top of his head.
At first I thought, wow. I can't believe this kid's parents woke him up, got him all dressed up like a tiny senator, and then let him bring a bed pillow with him to church. But... even if they
did, why were they letting him wear it around on his head in front of a hundred God-fearing people on Easter Sunday? Speaking from experience,
my mom had a reaction time of point-three seconds when it came to slapping stupid shit off the top of my head-- it may have been an intrinsic response, like sneezing. She swatted a navy sunhat off my head one time and I was fifteen feet away. And in college. Not only that, but my watch said it was almost ten o'clock; not exactly the sunrise service. In my opinion any kid who had reached "biped" status could handle sitting upright for an hour.
My parents and I were mesmerized. We watched this boy walk casually over to the cookie table with some friends, pillow bobbing. No one grabbed for the pillow, none of his nine-year-old friends knocked it off or tried to hit someone in the face with it. Everyone pretended like it didn't exist, like this kid's face wasn't 40% masked by pale blue pillowcase.
"What if it's a medical condition?" I whispered to my mom. But honestly, the only medical condition that came to mind was an awkward stalled skull growth situation a la
Joe Dirt. I am now officially not a doctor for 4,90
2 reasons.
"And if it is, they couldn't find something a little more...
orthopedic?" My mom whispered back. We both marveled that the pillow never seemed to waver, never required a steadying hand. When he left-- paper cup of punch in one hand, his mom's hand in the other-- I wanted to follow him. What would happen when he got in the car? Would he duck and take PillowTop with him? How in the world would his dad see out the rearview?
Obviously I didn't follow. I went to church, like a good daughter (albeit one who didn't go to medical school). And then spent twelve months thinking about a kid I don't know in a dark suit wearing a pillow on his head. So when my mom called and asked me to go to Easter services this year, how could I refuse? The lure of closure alone! I would meet said kid in the courtyard. It would be windy and the Visitors' Table would need paperweights but the pillow (by now maybe queen size?) would rest atop his dome like a Zen Master's id, nonplussed and unimpressed. We would come to some understanding, shake hands. Maybe he'd let me pat him gently on the pillow, I don't know. But he didn't show this year. I walked around and around the church courtyard and all I found was a bunch of really genuinely nice people. With no pillows on their heads. Lot of good that did
me.
Happy Easter? Pffff. Whatever.
