So I’ve noticed that for the past week, I’ve been blogging in this one-sided conversational style in which I talk about nothing significant, important, or helpful. I’m basically a chatter-box with a keyboard.
Sorry if you were hoping for a few deep posts. I won’t be imparting any spiritual truths or life’s lessons this week. There’s a part of me that wants to, I just can’t make words fit what’s rumbling around inside of me. And no! It’s not last night’s dinner that’s rumbling.
Today, since it’s freezing, I am going to give you visual documentation of true hat love. My kids seem to have developed an infatuation with head coverings, not the ordinary knit cap with a pom-pom on top, but the unusual, inventive, and often odd (only a kid could get away with it) type hat.
The pink I’m down with the flower-power crochet skull-cap.
The I wish you would buy me a horse and let me move to Texas cowgirl hat.
The don’t let me go in the woods unattended because I eat gross foods and can be mistaken for a new species of zebra-striped bear hat.
The I will take apart everything in the house with moving parts and steal batteries from my mother’s camera so I can invent something hat.
The exotic bird lover’s hat that only a Do-Do bird with a pet eagle puppet would wear hat.
I feel like I should worry about their future fashion choices, but I don’t feel qualified to help them look more mainstream, especially after catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realizing I look like a cross between a thrift-store mannequin and a New England liberal arts professor.
Send Stacey and Clinton ASAP!
Tell me you and your children sometimes wear freakish outfits too? Please.