once upon an ever there was a little girl who had two brains. these two brains could function simultaneously, but most of the time their contents were incompatible. sometimes the little girl's head looked a little too big for her body. headtoobigforbody syndrome occurred when her two brains were having a particularly fierce argument, because each brain expanded and throbbed and pressed up against the other, trying to coerce and convince.

when this happened, the girl got neck cramps from the extra weight of her enlarged head.

she also got very confused.

the little girl had a daddy who knew everything and who could fix everything. you know how when you were small you thought your dad possessed boundless knowledge? well, this was the case for the little girl with the two brains. but her belief in her parents' virtual omnipotence was founded in reality. her daddy really did know everything. her daddy really could fix everything.

but
there
was
a
problem.

the little girl was both stubborn and weak. she wanted to reconcile her two brains herself, or at least choose between their competing thoughts. (perhaps, even, there was a certain comfort found in deliberating and dissecting the two brains' arguments, a pattern to self-pity and angst and over-thinking.) however, her weakness was a more potent setback in dealing with headtoobigforbody syndrome. the little girl didn't know how to talk to her father. how to open up. sometimes she bowed her head and tiptoed to his door but her voice was never more than a rattled, nervous whimper.

it was illogical! she knew he would listen and she knew he would understand even if she choked out gibberish and she knew that he knew her two brains better than she did and she knew he could sew them together and relieve her tired neck muscles. she knew. but her foot tripped at his door and her voice faltered at his ear.