The Funniest and Realest

I love my body.

I truely do. Everything about it. Everything, that is, except my ears.

They’re not just big.

Big ears I could live with. All the better to hear you with, my dear.

But they’re—sorry bunnies—fricking big rabbit ears.

Seriously.

They stick up about seven inches from the top of my head. And no, they don’t flop over. And no, they aren't soft and furry like the read deal.

They’re human ears. Made out of fleshy cartilage just like yours. Only humongous.

Too big to cover with a wig or a hat.

And too embarrassing not to.

So, no surprise, I’m a home body.

Unless my house is on fire, I stay home. Oh, I might do a drive through under the cover of darkness, but that’s about it. Thank God for all the online ways to do business.

The only exceptions to that rule are Easter and Halloween.

But even then my eyes tear up at each, nice costume. And how’d you make them look so real?

They are real, asshole. Only I don’t say that. I smile and say something like ancient family secret and move my shopping cart to another–usualy longer–line.

Until the day my daughter, Phoebe, came home from school and announced her latest sixth grade project. Which was to bring in a friend or family member and tell the class how they changed your life.

And guess what? She wanted to bring me.

"Why?" I asked, so I could collect my thoughts.

She looked me dead in the eye. “First of all, you’re my Mom. And you mean the world to me. When that creep Brandon called me a cry baby and told everyone I still wear diapers, you were the one that let me cry it out, fixed me hot chocolate and then told me all the ways I’m mature for my age. And secondly, I love you, Mommy. More than anyone.”

I took her in my arms. “I love you, too, Sweetie. More than anyone. But, they’re going to laugh and make fun of me.”

“Mom…” she put her hand on her hips and gavse me the look. “We have a boy in our class, Jose Luis, who stutters. And at first some of the kids laughed at him. Now, no one does. And if they see some kids who do, they better look out.”

“What changed?”

“He wrote a story. About a boy who saw everyone who had something wrong with them or was broken either inside or out as beautiful. So beautiful they shimmered. And that made other people shimmer until the whole world shimmered and there was no need for fighting or wars or any mean stuff anymore, anywhere.”

“Did he read that to the class?”

She looked down. “No. It was too hard. The teacher read it. But we applauded him, and he smiled for the first time ever. Now kids bring him cookies and chocolate bars. He was really skinny at the first of the year. Now he’s getting fat.”

How could I say no to that?

So I agreed. And even asked if we could go first. I just wanted to get it over with.

They day came.

Wanting to look my best, I took my time getting dressed. I have decent figure and a slender waist. Not that kids should notice, but I didn’t want to add to my stress by looking frumpy.

So I wore my purple pants suit, and a silvery grey blouse with a demure bow at the neck. And my red power pumps that I call my ruby slippers. If all goes south, at least I can click my heels three times and go home.

I gave my auburn hair one hundred strokes so it shone. And even put studs in all the holes in my earlobes. If the gosh darn things we’re going to attract attention, then let them sparkle.

I met Phoebe in the hall outside her classroom. “Mom, you look ravishing!” Her high praise gave me a few more ounces of courage.

“Ready?”

I nodded.

She took me by the hand and led me in.

“Hey guys. And gals. This is my amazing Mom, Roberta.”

A kid in the front row dropped his jaw.

The girl next to him asked, “Do you mean Rabberta?”

Phoebe put her hand on her hip and gave that girl the look. “No, Stephanie. Her name is Roberta. Mrs. McDermott to you.”

She gazed at the rest of the kids. “And cut to the chase, yes, those are her natural ears and I love them. Just as I love how she sticks up for me and makes me feel more grown up than I really am. Just as I imagine your parents do for you.”

A kid by the window dropped his head and whispered, “I wish.”

“Now that that’s clear,” Phoebe said, “Does anyone have any questions?”

I hand in the back shot up. “Yeah, Mrs. McDermott, how many channels do you get on those things.”

Thankfully, that was not a new question. I laughed like it was though. “Five hundred and eighty six, I said, so you can imagine how much we save on cable.”

There were stares of disbelief and a chorus of cools from the back rows.

“Do people make fun of you in public,” a shy girl wanted to know.

“You know they do,” I told her. “Makes me want to stay home.”

“You know what?” she said. “If you went out more, folks would get to know you and you know, get used to seeing you out and about, and then it would be like no big deal.”

“That’s a great idea,” I said, and I meant it.

“Do you hear things the way dogs and bats do?” A boy asked.

I laughed again. “No. And I’m glad. That would drive me batty!”

They laughed. This was getting easier.

“Do you like carrots?”

“You betcha!” I pretended to chomp on one. “But I don’t have those kind of choppers.”

“Do you like to hop?”

Really? I cringed inside but refused to let it show. “Only at midnight on a full moon when the wolves are howling.

“Does anyone else in your family have big ears, too?”

“Only my grandpa. It skips generations.”

“Can I feel them?” the shy girl asked.

“Nancy,” The teacher finally intervened. “What are we learning about that?”

The girl drew a blank.

“Anyone?”

A boy in the back responded. “We respect people’s personal spaces.”

To this day I have no idea why, but I heard myself say, “It’s okay. I don’t mind. Just let me sit down so you can reach them.”

A chair was proffered. And the girl came up and gingerly touched both of my ears. Then she stepped back and siad, “They sure are pretty.”

My throat caught and my eyes teared. That was a first.

Then other kids came up. They each politely waited their turn and all were as gentle as can be. Most of them thanked me, or said simply, cool.

Even Jose Luis approached. He touched my ears and grinned at me. “Can I give you a hug?” he managed to blurt out.

“Sure,” I said. “I would be honored, Jose Luis.”

I leaned forward and Jose Luis hugged me. And not just a perfunctory hug. He hugged me like he was starved for human contact. I wrapped him in my arms and gave him and affectionate squeeze.

He didn’t say any more, as he pulled away our eyes caught in a knowing look. Knowing what it’s like to be so different folks laugh at us, not with us.

That made my day.

When Phobe came though the door at four p.m. she was jumping up and down with excitement. “Guess what, Mom!”

“You’re pregant.” It was our running joke though now that she was wearing a training bra, it was time to find a new one.

“No Silly,” she said. “Two things actually. One, we took a vote and you won!”

“Won what?”

“You were the funniest and the realest of all the parents.”

My mind flashed on the kid who whispered I wish. “That should not be a contest,” I said. “And number two?”

“Guess who I asked to the spring dance?”

Spring dance? Those were the events I hid from as a kid. No one wanted to dance with Rabberta the Rabbit when I was her age. And many years after. No one, until that is, I met her dad. “Who?”

She got all shy and blushy. “Jose…Luis.”

“Good for you!” I hugged her tight. When we let go I asked her if it was a dress up affair.

She nodded.

“We’ll have to go shopping. What do want to wear?”

She pointed at my feet. I still had the ruby slippers on.

I took them off and handed them to her.

She slipped her feet in and slid around the room in them like ice skates. They were way too big for her. My feet were humongous too, but folks rarely noticed.

“We’ll get you your very own ruby slippers. And whatever else you want.”

"Mom, can I borrow your ears?"