Day 124: I Hate My Curly Hair

I Hate My Curly Hair!
by
Matt Zurbo

 

Louie had a problem he didn’t want to talk about.
(Louie, curly black hair, looking vexed.)_

Until…
“I hate my curly hair!” one day he blurted out.
(Gnashing teeth, pulling at hair.)

“Huh? So it’s curly, so what!?”
Silly Sally said.
“No-one else,” Louie wailed,
“has such a curly head!”

“I tired steaming it,
boiling it,
flattening it under a rock!
But every time I just hurt myself, and…”

Boink!

“Back to curly it pops!”

“That’s nuts!” Silly Sally smiled.
“You sound like Anita over there…”
(Pointing to cute, freckle-faced girl.)

“I hate my freckles! They’re ugly!
I’m humiliated!
I just want skin that’s fair!”
(Girl scrubbing her skin.)

I don’t get it,” Louie pondered,
“Aren’t freckles kind of ace?
It’s not as though she has springy locks,
dangling above her face.”

Next, Sally pointed to Freda,
with her bright red hair!
Who hid it under hats and scarves
to avoid despair.

Then, there was Donny,
“At leasht Freda doeshn’t have a lithp!” he spat,
“A what?” asked Louie.
“A lisp,” Sally whispered,
Louie fumed. “THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT!?”
(Louie pointing to Donny as Louie and Sally argue. Donny is crying.)

“I get laughed at because I’m big!”
“I get teased because I’m small!”
Zelko worried about his funny name.
Fred’s glasses made his skin crawl
(Four suitable kids.).

Miles had floppy ears,
Lulu a funny, bunny nose.
“Let’s face it,” she complained.
“No-one wants one of those!”

“Who does all this teasing?”
Silly Sally had to ask.
And everybody pointed
to the worst bully in class.
(All kids pointing at each other.)

Then, just before,
they could all carry on again,
in walked a new kid,:
Babot! What a funny name!

His hair was curly,
red, too,
nose a real beaut!
Freckles? By the thousand!
Big ears,
overweight,
clown sized boots.

Glasses? Tick!
Knees bent,
too tall, too short, at the same time,
“I’ve got a mighty lishp, too!” he added,
“That I’m tho proud to call mine!”

“Great to meet you!” Babot said to Louie,
over-shaking his hand.
“I like your hair, ith really cool,
will you pleash be in my band?”
(Babot, smiling, chest out, full of confidence, furiously shaking Louie’s hand.)

Then, before Louie could answer,
Babot was talking to this person then that,
confident,
happy,
carefree,
not hiding under hats.

And when the big meanies tried  
to tease Babot about his looks,
he just laughed at them,
as if they were little sooks.

Louie stared into the mirror that night –
No, curly hair wasn’t that bad.
(Louie, standing in front of the mirror, staring at himself.)

Thanks to Badot he now thought it cool,
to have something nobody else had.
(Louie smiling.)

 

The End