My head is, in fact, NOT THE BIGGEST HEAD in our family. We took the time to measure and there were other noggins far greater in circumference than mine. But I'll be the butt of the joke. That's fine. I'll keep laughing at the "down in front" jokes, the So I Married an Ax Murderer references. I can handle it. Even though I know (and you know) it isn't the truth. I can cry myself to sleep on my huge pillow; I can manage my own weather system. That's fine.
Only thing I'm not loving right now is I'm sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner with my kids. Out of the blue Mister says, "Mom's head is really big and Dad's is medium." I looked at my husband who nearly wet himself and gave him the "are you kidding me" look? What happened there? Did he pay the child? Is he whispering these things in his ear while he sleeps.
Then the child continued. He put his fork down and used his hands to describe the difference in size. "Mom's head is like this..." and his hands grew into a gigantic balloon type deal. Then he said, "But Dad's head is more like..." and his hand grew outward an inch, maybe two.
My husband, now nearly choking, said, "Honestly, this is good material. Admit it, the kid is GOOD."
I replied, "Oh yes, he's a real wise guy." But what I wanted to say was "Puhlease, the kid doesn't know his ass from his elbow."