Tuesday, October 12, 2010

That hat

Where to begin....

My husband has this hat.  He bought it as a souvenir on a trip we took to Alberta several years ago.  It is the unrivalled winner when it comes to things to argue about in our house.  Hands down.

He loved his new hat, more commonly known as "the Banff hat", and wore it every day for the longest time.  Even at inappropriate times like when we were out for dinner (argument topic #1).  He wore it so much that it started to fade and tear and come apart - but he continued to wear it anyway, even though it made him look unkempt and sloppy (argument topic #2).  We had this argument once on our way to dinner at a friend's place when I was pregnant.  I don't remember the entire fight, but I do remember crying (gimme a break I was pregnant) and holding that stupid hat out the car window threatening to throw it.  I don't know what stopped me but I've since regretted my hesitation on many occasions. 

The hat finally started to look awful enough that some friends started to tease him about it along with me, and then it finally got demoted from his "everyday" hat to his "work" hat.  I could live with that.  I thought...

Hat prior to work use.  Note frayed edges and sweat stains.

But we weren't done fighting about that hat yet.  You see, my husband builds homes for a living, so most days comes home looking like he crawled out of a mud hole.  So needless to say, the hat is filthy.  I mean filthy.  And the smell of it would make your eyes water.  How anyone could put a dirty, reeking hat on their clean head in the morning is way beyond me (argument topic #3).  And then he complains that he's losing his hair, and refuses to acknowledge the possibility that it's because he wears that radioactive thing on his head day after day (argument topic #4). 

Hat today - on my table
 Sure, I wash it whenever I can get my hands on it, but it doesn't matter because it's dirty again the next day anyway.  Really, the fact that he wears the disgusting thing to work doesn't really bother me that much.  It's the fact that I find it lying around the house that I have a problem with (argument topic #5).  Like on the kitchen counter.  On the table.  On our bed.  On the couch or floor (where the baby can, and does, find it and put it in his mouth - GAG).  Need I go on? 

I don't want to look at it.  I don't want to smell it.  And I really don't want to touch it.  Yet for some reason I still seem to have to get up close and personal with that hat on a daily basis.

The things we do for love.

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