Bum-bum hair. (A dispiriting true story)
August 4, 2009
On my way home from the gym I stopped at a street light beside a father and his daughter. The father ignored me. The little girl, however, locked eyes with me, stared for a few seconds, then raised an accusing finger.
“You have bum-bum hair” she said.
Admittedly I had just finished at the gym so I wasn’t finely coiffed, but not to the point it should elicit cruel personal attacks from preschoolers.
“Pardon me” I asked, thinking maybe I’d misheard her.
She turned, tightened up her mean little face, and repeated.
“You have bum-bum hair”.
Then she stuck her tongue out at me like I was the one giving her the business! At this point the light was close to changing but I needed clarification: was bum-bum hair just a general indictment? Did she dislike the style? The color? The curl? Or had my pants just been riding low and she’d managed to catch a glimpse of my amply furred buttocks? Only I was pretty sure I had been walking behind them.
“Are you talking about my ass?” I said, pulling the back of my pants down a little to illustrate the hair in question.
At this point the little girl became non-communicative. Her father, who was still ignoring me, also decided suddenly he needed to walk on the other side of the street. I felt the need to make my case.
“Your kid said I have Bum-bum hair…that is rude and vague, sir!” I shouted after him.
No answer. I decide my only recourse was to respond in kind.
“Hey kid, you got crooked feet and your shoes are ugly”.
To her credit she did not respond, but I did see her try and straighten out her walk a little.
I think I’m going to get my hair cut tomorrow.
 I figure she was about four or five years of age.