Apr 12, 2014


This hat, this spangly hat, this disco-ball of baseball caps, held a little torch of hope that it might all be worthwhile.

It used to belong to Eloise - Eloise who never would, from forever ago to almost this day, wear her hat without some form of protest. Eloise would never wore it really.

Then a few weeks ago Lyra discovered it, and for a while at least, when we were off out, she would look at me with a look of "A-ha," saunter off, find the hat, plonk it off her head, and look at me with a looking of "I'm ready."

Off course, capricious as she is, that's all come to an end, and now it gets tossed on the floor like a discarded salad, but still, there's hope.

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