My Nephew Remembers

Back in mid-January, my 3-year-old nephew and I were watching Guardians of the Galaxy at his house. In the opening scene, a young Star-Lord/Peter Quill visits his dying mother. When the scene showed her, my nephew pointed to the TV screen and exclaimed, "Manda! That's like you!" How observant.

Meredith Quill, Galaxy of the Guardians, Source

For the record, at the time, my hair looked like this:

Jump ahead to the first week of February. I have several apps on my phone to entertain my nephew. One of these is a hair salon in which you select a picture of yourself (or anyone) and create outrageous hairstyles: wash, dry, cut, buzz, grow, curl, straighten, color, add bows and hats, etc.

For example, I gave my nephew this make-over:

When it was his turn, my nephew took a lot of time styling my hair. He sat quietly and focused intently while I chatted with my sister. After several minutes, he tapped me on the shoulder and proudly showed me his creation:

At least it's better than Aunt Gollum.

My Recent Conversation with a Little Old Lady

Too funny / facepalm-worthy not to share.

The Set-up: Since shaving my hair, I feel perfectly confident venturing into public without a hat. (Eyeshadow and eyeliner, however, are a must.) This preferred method of dress has garnered quite a few head turns, second glances, and occasional stares wherever I go.

The Setting: Monday morning at the local grocery store with my mom. I feel nauseous from walking around and seeing all the food food food. Blech. I sit down at a table near the coffee kiosk. Mm! Coffee... Must have! I stand in line behind a little old lady and wait to order a frappuccino. The old lady glances at me, puts something in her cart, then turns around and strides up to me.

The following is a quick reconstruction of our conversation. If this truncated version makes either myself or the little old lady sound short or rude, I promise both of us were polite and cordial to each other. =)

Old Lady: I hope you don't think I'm rude for asking, by why have you shaved your hair?

Me: Well, I have cancer.

(I go on, blah blah blah, talking about cancer, explaining how not all my hair fell out so I shaved it...)

Old Lady: Oh good! I'm just glad to hear you haven't become one of those Hindus!

Me (*mental facepalm*): I don't see anything wrong with that if that's where I found my peace...

(I don't think she heard me. She had hearing aids and frequently had to ask me to speak louder when I talked about my hair loss.)

Old Lady: Do the cancer treatments make you sick?

Me: Truthfully, I can barely stand right now.

Old Lady: I know of a doctor in Texas who has a cure for cancer.

(She then gives me his name, several times.)

Old Lady: Look him up. I'm telling you, a cure. for. cancer. 

Me: Thank you for the info! I actually already have a doctor, and she and I get along great! I also feel blessed because I have one of the most curable kinds of cancer.

Old Lady (delighted): Good!

Me: Would you like to read my blog?

Old Lady: That's all right. You take care now!

Me: You too!

The entire conversation cracked me up.

I should have told her about my participation in the Festival of Colors at the Sri Sri Radha Krishna Temple in Utah last year: