helmet hair

There is an ominous thump from the living room, but no crying. Ali comes into the kitchen holding his head at a tilt. "I opened my head," he tells me. "For me?" I ask, pretending its a gift. I tell him it didn't hurt because of his overgrown head of hair. "When I'm bald, it'll hurt," he tells me. "When I'm bald and the giant drops me on my head." Then he tells me that giants aren't real.