So, apparently there's a legend somewhere that says one gleans luck by rubbing the head of someone who has red hair. More often than I can believe, people try to better their chances at life by encountering Tyler.
Today, a very friendly (and oddly strange) woman approached us. She looked at Tyler and said, "Oh, you're so very lucky with your red hair."
Then to me, she asked, "May I touch it? May I touch his hair?"
"Well, you can ask him."
"May I touch your hair?"
Lowering his chin and his gaze, my sweet boy said, "No, thank you." Way to go, kiddo. Personal boundaries. They're yours, too.
She touched his shoe instead, which he was minimally okay with. She went on to say that she had three redheads of her own, and she "always told them they were special. Actually, I told them they were mutants. Because redheads are nearly extinct you know." She slugged me in the arm and said, "So, you, you have more children."
Polite smile. (Are we finished?)
We parted ways, as she called out to us how lucky we were. And apparently partly mutant.
I carried Tyler out of the store, and I said, "Sorry, buddy. She was a little weird."
"Yeah, Mommy. Weird."
Legend or not, that's weird. Please, throw a penny in a fountain. Pick a four leaf clover. But don't ask to rub my son's head.
It weirds him out, just a bit.