Blonde Moments · Just Another Personality

Size Don’t Matter–Right?


Yesterday my kids informed me that the size of our brain is as big as our two fists put together.  I have small fists (much to my brothers relief) – with a youth sized head (I’m 34)

I don’t know about you, but that little piece of trivia scared the crap out of me. So I Googled “what is the size of my brain?”, hoping that my kids were wrong.   But they’re not, according to my research. 

Despite my heart plummeting into dark depths of despair, I have decided to take comfort in the positive.  I know this may be grasping at straws, but I need all that I can get right now.  My brain may be small, but it’s heavy.  Sure, God gave me a tiny brain.  So what if I must think for days and months about something before I come to the same conclusion that the larger brains have made within a few minutes (at least I don’t give up on thinking).   Yes, I find that I slam up against a wall when coming to the edge of my capacity to dwell on complex complexities (and yesterday I found out that that wall is literally my cranium).  But I inflict pain on Jason’s arm while resting this tiny beast upon him.  I’m pretty dense (dense with gray matter that is, thank you very much.  Unless I have an extraordinarily thick scull. Nah. I’m sure it’s all brain).  So  it almost levels out. 

I think I do well for having so little.  I make no apologies if and when I talk to you and my mind blanks and I can’t finish my sentence.  I used to think it was just because I’m odd & awkward around people.  I know better now.  I make no apologies when I have my “blonde” moments.  We now know the reason why. 

All I ask is that you extend some grace whenever these moments happen.  Just think to yourself, “oh, poor thing, she’s reached the outer limits of her capacity for deeper thinking because her brain is so tiny.”  And then finish the sentence for me.  Do like my mother-in-law once did when I started to remove a piece of toast with a metal fork while the toaster was still plugged in.  Quietly remove the weapon from my hands.  Seriously, I won’t mind.  It’s a wise person who can acknowledge her deficiencies and accept help when necessary to improve her situation. 

In other words, I need your help people.  And I thank you for it.


Give it to me!

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