Boppa's Bald Stories, Laurie Trott Rettig and Hanna du Plessis
The Advance Review Copy of Boppa's Bald Stories. Please do not share.
Boppa's Bald Stories
Laurie Trott Rettig, as told by Ross Rettig
Illustrations by Hannah du Plessis
Published by Okay Then LLC
okaythen.net
© 2023, Laurie Trott Rettig
Illustrations © 2023, Hanna du Plessis
Original stories told by Ross Rettig
ISBN 979-8-9902509-0-1
Library of Congress Control Number: 2024938279
All rights reserved. For permission to reproduce more
of the content than the law allows, contact the publisher.
First edition, 2024
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Boppa and Yaya dedicate these stories
to those who couldn’t join the fun.
To Kaitlyn Rose, Levi William, Olivia Lynn,
and Hunter Joseph in Pennsylvania.
To Max in Spain, and to Garry in Belgrade, Montana.
We wish you lived closer. We love you dearly.
One January afternoon the cousins were sitting around the fi replace
with blocks and puzzles. Emmy was reading in the big green chair.
Boppa was reading in the bright red chair. The parlor had a warm
cookie smell. Judah started pestering Boppa to tell how he got bald.
Maggie joined in. “I like the time you were in the marching band
and the wind blew your hair off ,” she coaxed.
“Oh, that story isn’t real, Maggie,” confessed Bops. “I’ll tell you the
real marching band story.”
Maggie asked doubtfully, “But will this one really be real?”
“Of course it will!” exclaimed Boppa.
This one time our marching band was chosen to play in Pasadena,
California for the New Year’s Day Rose Bowl Parade. We weren’t
supposed to chew gum in the marching band, but I knew how to do it
so that nobody could tell. I played the glockenspiel, which fi t over my
shoulders with straps. The cymbal player marched right behind me.
Chewing gum helped my ears feel better when the cymbals crashed
so close.
Well, we were playing a Sousa march. We turned sharply, and my
gum fl ew out of my mouth. Before I thought about what I was doing,
I leaned over to rescue it, almost losing one of my mallets. As I stood
back up the cymbal player clashed his cymbals, skimming right along
the top of my head. They skimmed off all of my hair, along with my tall
marching hat! From that day on I have been as bald as I am today. I never
got to play in the band again, because I got kicked off for chewing gum.
“What is a glow-cans-peel, Boppa?” asked Louise.
“That is an instrument like a xylophone,” Boppa replied.
Judah was thoughtful. “Boppa, was that the day you started getting
deaf?”
Just then Yaya came in with a fresh plate of chocolate chip cookies.
Boppa and the Rose Bowl Parade
One afternoon close to Christmas, EmmyJean was in charge of making
cookies with all the younger cousins. While they waited for the timer
to go off announcing the dough was chilled, Emmy sat with Boppa.
She had a question.
“Boppa, did you have hair a long time ago?”
“Oh yes,” answered Bops. I used to have beautiful thick brown hair.”
Emmy looked surprised. “Did you ever dye it a diff erent color?”
“I sure did,” he replied.
This one time I went to a Christmas cookie baking party. There
was a girl named Ann at the party who would dye anyone’s hair who
wanted to try it. A girl with long hair already had bright purple stripes,
and someone was getting his blond hair dyed bright red.
Boppa and the Green Hair
I was nervous to get my hair dyed, but I really wanted to. I wondered
what I’d look like if it was bright green. I gathered my courage, and
asked Ann if she would make me into a greenhead. In twenty minutes
my hair was the color of a Christmas tree.
The next day was one of those unseasonably sunny warm December
days. I drove to the farm and walked to the pond. I sat down to look at
geese and soak up sunshine. I guess I fell asleep, because next thing
I knew I was startled awake by loud munching sounds. I felt blasts
of warm air huffing into my ears. Something was pulling on my hair!
Would you believe it? A gentle old cow had mistaken my green hair
for grass and was calmly swallowing the last of it.
“Boppa, you’re silly!” teased EmmyJean.
Just then the timer for the dough rang. The other kids came running
in, wondering if the cookie dough was ready to roll out and cut into stars
and angels.
One lazy morning Ben and Lucy came early enough to have oatmeal
with Boppa and Yaya. They were going to stay all day at the Lark
and Laurel.
Ben promised he wouldn’t accuse Boppa of lying if Bops would
tell a bald story.
“Okay, if you promise,” said Boppa. He sipped his coff ee and began.
This one time I was walking in the country. It was evening. The
sky was full of clouds. They got darker and darker by the second. I
could smell the strong scent of rain. A storm was coming, for sure!
Suddenly there was a bright explosion of lightning and the deafening
boom of thunder. A zzzinngg CRACK zapped across the top of my
head. Lightning was sending electricity through my body. Smoke
was pouring off my forehead. I touched my scalp. All I felt was fuzz.
I rubbed my noggin. The fuzziness was ashes that brushed right off
and blew away in the wind.
“Why was your head smoking?” Lucy asked.
Ben answered, “Because the lightning burned his hair off .”
“Oh, yeah,” Lucy laughed. “I knew that!”
Just then Yaya brought over the bowls of oatmeal with blueberries,
brown sugar, and cream.
Boppa and the Lightning
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