A shameless hat story

Did you ever own a hat that fits your big ole noggin perfectly? That’s weighted exactly right for every season? Breathes beautifully? And DOES NOT SHOW SWEAT?

Me neither.

But, here’s the thing. My future daughter in-law does.

And she kindly loaned it to me.

Once.

Fourteen months ago.

Since then, that hat has made its way, Flat Stanley like, all over the world.

On my sweaty head.

And, each time I wear it, I think, “Oh man. I have to wash this and send it back to Danni.”

So, I do.

Wash it.

And, then I wear it again.

And again.

And again.

And my big ole head, with that sweet hat, shows up rather frequently on my social media feed. I see those pictures along with everyone else, including Danni, and I think, “Oh man. I have to wash that hat and send it back to Danni.”

So, I do.

Wash it.

And then I wear it again.

Shamelessly, I even pack it, when I know it’s not mine, and take it on trips with me.

That hat has been to Malaysia, for Pete’s sake. I’ve worn it on charity runs, to music festivals, on river floats, to the neighborhood pool, to Pittsburgh, New York, California and Boulder, Colorado. It’s wrong. I know it is.

I need to send that poor thing back where it belongs.

So, I’m writing this post as a mea culpa and a reminder that I need to wash that hat and give it back to Danni.

So, I will.

Wash it.

But I’m pretty sure I’m going to wear it again.