Early last week I came home from somewhere to find Earl had purchased a warm, wooly hat for me. No reason; just that I had once expressed an interest in a really warm hat to replace my black wool knit cap. After all, Groundhog Day is tomorrow and I don’t have much faith in the Groundhog this year. I suspect we’re in for at least six more weeks of winter.
The hat is called a Russian Trooper Hat with faux fur trim. Supposedly it’s trendy and durable and great for the skip slopes. I only know it’s warm and that it elicited a lot of response the two days I wore it to the gym. “I love your hat,” several people said. “Cool hat” was another version of the same thing.
Then I went to Starbucks where the barista looked at my hat and said: “I almost bought that hat at Kohl’s, but my daughter said if I did she’d never speak to me again.” To which I replied, probably too irreverently, “That wouldn’t be all bad.”
I hope I didn’t wear out my welcome at Starbucks!
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