Wyatt has a hat. It's floppy, brown and very ugly. None of us really like the hat, but Wyatt loves it and wears it often. Wyatt came to own this hat because of a reverse psychology ploy that should have worked, but backfired miserably.
Wyatt's daddy, Jacob and I had taken Wyatt to Tractor Supply, which is a super cool store if 1) You are a boy and 2) You like all things country. Needless to say, Wyatt and Jacob love Tractor Supply. This particular day Jacob was looking for a new hat, because his old one was in shreds and had a peculiar odor to it that was a cross between wet dog and old socks. He found a hat he liked fairly quickly that had a camo pattern and of course, Wyatt wanted a hat because everything his daddy does, he wants to do too. Jacob found a matching hat for him, but surprisingly,Wyatt did not like the hat. He was in a particularly stubborn mood that day, and was determined to do the complete opposite of whatever he was asked to do, so he wanted the pink hat with the dancing kitties on it, the hat with flaps, the hat that was 4 sizes too large etc..... if you have ever spent time with a toddler, you know exactly what I am taking about. Jacob could have just bought the hat he wanted Wyatt to wear, but being a bit of a rebel himself, was willing to give Wyatt some latitude. Besides, a man's right to chose his own hat is sacred and cannot be violated. I think its Man Rule #8.
After about 15 minutes of fruitless hat shopping, Jacob decided to give Wyatt a choice between 2 hats. One hat was the hat that matched Jacob's and the other was a big ole brown, floppy thing that we knew Wyatt was sure to hate. You know what happened next. Yup. It was love at first sight. The minute Wyatt saw the hat, his face lit up and he squealed, "My hat!" and plunked that awful thing on his head. He refused to take it off and wore it out of the store. We still hate that hat, but it makes Wyatt so happy to wear it, so the hat has a place of honor on the shelf in Wyatt's room.
That ole hat got me to thinking about the unusual things in life that make us happy. The orange dress with the purple dots, the Budda statue with the clock in his belly, the skinny jeans with the tube top. I don't know why such odd things bring us so much joy. Perhaps it is the freedom to make a goofy choice or maybe it is that need to occasionally swim against the tide of reason and have a small rebellion. I think as Americans, we value our freedom to choose more than most. The freedom to chose wisely or unwisely, to succeed or fall flat on our faces. Sometimes our choices really stink and other times they are inspired, but to me, the most important thing is that we have the freedom to choose for ourselves. The End
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