Hats.

I love hats. I always have loved hats. When I was younger and my mom would bring me shopping, I would always beeline it straight for the hat section. I would try on every single one of those hats. Why? Why not. It was fun.

Today, my coworker and I went to blow off some steam. We found ourselves in the hat section at the local bargain basement store. My eight year-old self came out in full force. Fortunately, my coworker is a great sport and she joined in on the fun. We tried on the most GORGEOUS hats we could manage. After a few hats, we noticed a group of three younger girls, probably in their early teens. They were aiming for the same idea as us. As they huddled around some lovely green brimmed hats, we posed with our pink bejeweled versions.

I suggested a hat to them to which they looked at me like I was crazy. Um. Not. The. Truth. Really, I'm not the creepy old lady talking to kids. (1) I'm not that old. (2) I'm a nice girl. (3) I really pointed out a GORGEOUS hat to them. (I guess I never really was good at the whole "don't talk to strangers" bit, huh?)

Really, I think the problem was that my coworker and I hoarded all the good hats for our own personal Blackberry photo session. Those adolescent girls were JEALOUS. Obviously.

No one is better at me than honing in and trying on THE most ridiculous GORGEOUS hat in the bunch. Give them ten to fifteen years, then they will have some serious skills.