Mommy Don't Like That

 

The metamorphosis into bald is an intense push into the depths of the emotional fight of a cancer diagnosis. Overnight, you become a person who looks so ill that people actually perceive you, with one glance, as someone who is dying.

Bald telecasts cancer to the world and it is a perpetual reminder of it to oneself.

The beginning stages, after just having lost your hair, is an especially sensitive time in which it’s difficult to not feel shocked at every reflection of your image.

The first person I let look at my bare, bald head was my son, Little H. He and I took a bath together the evening following the shaving. He seemed surprised to see my naked, hairless head joining us in the tub. I tried to explain to my happily-oblivious toddler that my hair is gone now, which I don’t really like, so I’ll be wearing a lot of hats. 

 

He nodded casually and then concluded our heart-to-heart by pointing at my head and saying, “Mommy don’t like that.” 

 

Keeping the conversation simple and light, I replied, “That’s right son, I don’t really like it like this." 

And so went the next 5 minutes with him repeating “Mommy don’t like that” as he pointed at my head and tried to process what I had told him.

 
Over the next week, he would occasionally recall this conversation and repeat the mantra as he focused on the scarf or hat atop my head. With beautiful succinctness and accuracy, my 2 ½ year old son walked around proclaiming, “Mommy don’t like that.”

**A longer version of this tale was shared in the Easy Reader News and can be found here.**