HATS

ME:  So, do you like my new hat, Grammy?

GRAMMY:  No.

ME:  No?  What do you mean, ‘no?’

GRAMMY:  I mean I don’t like your new hat.  What the hell else could I mean?

ME:  Well, why don’t you like it?  What’s wrong with it?

GRAMMY:  What’s wrong with it?  You look like a little girl in her Sunday bonnet.  All you need now are a pair of patent leather shoes and white gloves.  Grab your Bible and it’s off to church you go.  Oh, wait.  You don’t go to church.

ME:  You’re not funny, Grammy.  And I happen to like it.

GRAMMY:  Yeah, well, you like your ex, too.  I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.

ME:  (glancing in mirror)  Does it really look like a little girl’s hat?

GRAMMY:  No.  It looks like a little girl’s hat from the sixties.  The early sixties.

ME: ( tossing hat on couch)  Oh, you’re right.  This doesn’t suit me at all.  And who even wears hats anymore, anyway?

GRAMMY:  (putting hat on)  Well, on the right person, at the right angle, it could look pretty damn good.

Photo:  Tom Robinson Photography