The hat that is no more, alas. couple of weeks ago, I joyously posted about our visit to the S.F. Goorin Brothers hat store where my  haberdashery-shy hubby actually bought a hat. A newsboy cap. It looked great on him.

He wore it once on a drizzly day in S.F.. He brought it to NYC. He wore it the second time on a rainy Manhattan day enroute to a restaurant. He forgot it at said restaurant. We called them. They couldn’t find it. Hat gone. Husband hatless again.

The moral of this Aesop’s fable: You can’t make a zebra change its stripes and you can’t change a headless (er hatless) hubby.

I’m still wearing my 20 year old men’s fedora to keep my brains dry. But I give up on him.

About nobluehair

A lifetime of love, family, friends, work and play and I'm just getting started. Growing better every day with gratitude, attitude and reckless hope and humor. At least, that's where I'm aiming.
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