Fez, Fedora, Sombrero, Chapeau

Today at lunch, my mama told my children that when I was a toddler I loved to put stuff on my head. Milk, for example. I don't remember this being the case, but they got a big kick out of the revelation. I'm sure the pouring of the milk over my head was VERY early on. I'm also certain that I would have learned after the first time not to do it again, but mama says I did it more than once. But milk was not really what she was talking about. It was hat-type objects. I am impressed indeed by the number of pictures in the old albums where I actually AM sporting something on my head. A pot. A colander. A bonnet. She could be telling the truth. And even now, I have the deep desire to be a hat wearer. I always, always want to try on the fancy hats at Dillard's, but my mama told me long ago that you just never have any idea WHO might have put that on their head before you and I'm just too scared. In my weakest moments, when I give in and do it anyway, I'm always very disappointed because it turns out that I just don't look good in a hat. Maybe when I'm old and feeble and don't care what anybody thinks anymore, I'll just go around wearing a hat all the time. Like those ladies in the red hat society. Now THAT is just....not right. First of all purple and red don't go together. I don't care how old you are, they just don't. Secondly, some of those get-ups...don't get me started. My mama joined this little club at some point last year and after I heard some of the stories about the official rules concerning the wearing of flowers versus hats and some of the nit picky yuck that they were spouting, I told my mama that life was too precious to be hanging around such evil old women and gave her my blessing to quit it post haste. No, I won't be a red hat society lady in my old age, but I think I will wear hats. Just because. I won't be the cat lady. I'll be the hat lady.

But then again, my mother could have been talking about my sister. She did introduce me the other day as her daughter "sister's name". And she called me that same name today when we were together. I don't care. I'm still wearing hats.



Disclaimer: No members of the red hat society were harmed during the writing of this blog post. If you are offended in any way by the writer's blatant dislike of the red hat society, she apologizes profusely and indicates here that she harbors no ill will toward those wearing red and purple together, but would never do it herself. Please keep your arms, legs, hands, feet and head inside the blog at all times and exit to the right when the blog is over. Thank you.