In Which We Snuggle

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Me, My Hat and I

Look, I understand to my friends in Chicago and Michigan and other unfortunate places like that, my claims that it's cold here might be met with a certain lack of enthusiasm. After all, they have to deal with blizzards and black ice and those snow angel things and glaciers and other frigid thingies. All right, all right, but a week of 40 degree weather and rain and I'M COLD, okay?

Which is why I've been considering wearing my liquor store hat. I know no one else calls them that, usually they're referred to as knit caps or watch caps. To me, they always represent the disguise thugs put on when they're preparing to knock over a liquor store. And it's better if you pronounce "liquor" the way we did in the south, "likkah." As in "I don't care what I look like, I'm gonna put on my Likkah Stoh hat."

R Man is much too sweet to actually forbid me doing anything, no matter how ridiculous, but he has made it clear that were he ever to put his foot down against something, liquor store hats would be way up on the list. And I have to say, his feelings are understandable. I'm tall and skinny with a long, thin face. Add in the cap and I look sort of like a project that hasn't been finished yet. Still, when I'm standing in the rain waiting for a bus, a liquor store cap sounds pretty enticing. How bad, I think, could I actually look? Has there ever been a train of reasoning along those lines that doesn't lead to tears? No. Still....