"Bloody brilliant head of hair, that Crapmaster P," said Noel.
Paulie has about 10 nicknames that are constantly evolving - Little Paulie Walnuts, Boulos, Boogie Boy, Crapmaster P, and most recently Brit-Pop for the way his wavy brown locks of hair fall naturally into the style and shape similar to that of a British rock star's. Caroline addresses him by all of these names interchangably. Today, during a particularly sweaty morning on the playground, Caroline saddled up to a gaggle of sweaty moms, and asked "Where Brit-Pop go?" She didn't see Paulie sitting beneath the spiral slide mouthing a wood chip. I headed over to confiscate said wood chip and she spotted him. "There's Brit-Pop!" she announced proudly. The sweaty moms shot each other glances, clearly not understanding the name.
"Ooooh, is that your brother, sweetie? What did you say his name was," one of the moms cooed.
Caroline, falling hard on her consonants like a news anchor, repeats loudly: "BriT PoP."
I lug Paulie over, remove his little Red Sox cap and explain how the name came to be. Blank stares all around. "Oh, I thought it was for some kind of popsicle or something," one of the moms says. I was too sweaty to carry the conversation any further. Then, Paulie stuck his pinky in my right nostril and it kind of hurt. Thankfully, a toddler that belonged to one of the moms started screaming because some other brat stole his sippy cup and was making a sand castle with it. One of the mom's looked at Caroline and said "Speaking of hair. You've got the most beautiful curly hair." And it's true. Even on a sweaty day like today when everyone's hair was pasted to their foreheads, Caroline's ringlets had soaked in the humidity like a sponge and maximized her 'fro.
"So...do you have a funny nickname too?" the mom asked, ruffling Caroline's hair and temporarily getting her hand stuck.
"Want to go get a juicebox, sweetie?" I piped up a little too squeakily. I panicked, knowing Caroline will spill the beans on her occassional nickname - Juan Epstein - rendering us the playground crazies. Juan, Brit-Pop and I fire up the double-stroller and make a quick exit. We are home free..for now.
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