I admire my wife for many reasons. She's intelligent, talented and beautiful. Most importantly, she knows her shoes and she can wear any hat.
It's uncanny. She has a small head and dark, pretty hair kept pretty short. Once upon a time, her hair was long with color stolen from a crow's wing but she went to France as a teenager and came back with a stylish and very short French haircut. I loved the change, later viewing it as her assertion of her views of herself.
No matter what her hair over the years, she can don a hat and make it look great. She knows this, too. She loves hats and enjoys trying them on, adjusting angles and adjusting different poses.
It makes me insanely jealous and it's why I admire her, for I am chapeau challenged. I have a collection of hats, properly called ballcaps. Most are emblazoned with a sports team or car manufacturer's logo. No matter what it says or its colors, it looks bad on me. I have a large head with a tall forehead. Shaped like an egg balancing on its small side, my head is apparently hostile territory for hats. Yet, walking so much in the sun and rain and working on the yard, I feel a hat need.
So I search. We go in stores and head for the hat section, she to try on and show off, me to terminate my anxious struggle for noggin protection.
The searches haven't gone well, except to make my wife giddy. Bursting with laughter, she gently pats my head each time and tells me, "I don't know why, but you can't wear a hat. They don't look good on you."
Maybe so but this I vow, I shan't quit until I find a hat for me. There's a noggin at stake. Now that summer has finally shown up us in full glory, I'm really feeling the heat.
Causes Michael Seidel Supports
Kiva, Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, Propublica.org, Doctors Without Borders, GreaterGood.com