A Short Story About Hats

Every single year, the International School in Stavanger celebrates Guy Fawkes Night* by building a bonfire and burning the poor guy in effigy.

We had a plan to meet up with several other families from our babies group.  We were going to visit, watch the bonfire and stay for the fireworks.

Elliot hated it.

And we're not quite sure if it's because of the darkness, the fire, the wind or AS's hat.**  But after a bit, it just seemed the nicer thing to scoot out early.

At least we missed the traffic.

___________________________________________




*In 1605, Fawkes was one of the leaders in a plot to blow up the Brit's Houses of Parliament.  It failed. So depending on how you feel about that, you can feel a bit sorry for him...or not.

**It was a furry one, kind of like a cartoon hunter's.  (I'm not cracking on it, really...It suited him.) And every time he leaned into Elliot's face to talk to him, Elliot wailed.  So I'm going with the hat.

Things Elliot Stares At: Fish

My sister Claudia saved boxfuls of clothes and toys from when her son Jack was a baby. When I was pregnant, she was sweet enough to sift through them all for me. And because I was new to the whole mothering situation, I trusted her advice as to what was key and what was not.

(Elliot has been loving this fish mobile since he was a month old. He abhors the pram and the pacifier.)

One of which was a fish mobile---Just a few brightly colored fish hanging from a few pieces of string. It didn't go with my color scheme and I kind of hate cartoon-y things.* Also it didn't "do" anything.

She insisted, saying, "Trust me. Jack LOVED it."

So of course I trusted her.  And Elliot loves it, too. 

(This is from back in the olden days, too. And, no I don't know why he's only wearing one glove.  He's never even heard of Michael Jackson.)

He hates the pram where it has been hanging, so he hasn't had a good visit with the fish in several weeks. But these days he's been rolling over and wiggling about, so we decided to hang it over his changing table---everyone involved would benefit from the distraction. 

 

The first time I put him underneath it, it was like Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy had all stopped by.  He laughed and cooed and talked to it.  And other than a little wiggling, he was calm while the business was happening.  And it's been that way, every single time we make a visit to the table since.

So yesterday, after we were done and he was settled into a safer place, I peeked underneath and understood.  

Awesome. 

*This was back when I really really cared about things like that. I still hate cartoons, though.