Today I bought some new running hats ( just like the rats in the Sandra Boynton book although, sadly, neither of mine came with little wings on the side). After a quick trip to the bank with my 18-month old in tow, I boldly decided it was time to get a hat or two to wear in my upcoming races. I've been needing some kind of hat you can do sports in for a long time and today was the day. I was also secretly hoping that having a hat to run in would magically result in my stamina approximately doubling between now and my first-ever 10 K in two weeks.
My little one is sucking a lollipop that has recently become the obligatory candy-bowl treat she gets every time we go do my Dad's banking. For some reason I fail to notice that her hands are covered with congealing melted corn syrup and food coloring when we go into the sporting goods store. She decides it's hilarious to pick up as many hats as she can and reorganize them in the store. Finally, Sergio, the store owner, hands me two hats and says "Are these yours?". Confused, I am about to say that I was planning to buy a hat but not that super-un-cute light blue Nike one that he's holding. And then I see the sticky yellow fingerprints all over it. "Yes! That's just the one I wanted!" The chic black visor I am trying on also gets put back in the pile so I can buy a much less cute one that my girl has destroyed. I'm now the proud owner of 2 running hats, complete with 20 sticky little finger marks for added flair.
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