She's taken to wearing them instead of her wig, which, these days, she only wears for 'special occasions'.
She says her wigs are too hot. Gets uncomfortable. Makes her itchy.
I think the truth of the matter is that she's much more comfortable with her baldness - from an auto immune disease - than she is with wearing a wig.
The one on top is the one she wears when she's on call for the Chatham Emergency Squad. It's one of her favorites.
She must be wearing her absolute favorite one today because I couldn't find it.
Why, it's her Boston Red Sox cap, of course. (Did you really have any doubt?)
A parishioner presented me with this nifty little device that attaches to the top and bottom of the door, with spiffy little clips on which to hang your caps.
I came right home and put it on the pantry door in the kitchen, across from the back door that enters from the garage and next to the door leading to the basement where we hang our weekday coats on another nifty little over the door gadget.
You know. Right where she can't miss it.
I'm guessing this will work for, oh, a week, maybe ten days. And then, I'll hear her in the morning, fussing to one of the pups, "Now, where did I put my cap? Did you take it? Did you hide it?"
The pups will look at her, at the alert and ready to please, cocking their sweet little heads in the cute way they do but thinking to themselves, "This woman is absolutely hopeless! She can never find her cap and then accuses us of taking it. Sheesh! I wish someone would get her a cap organizer."
Well, 'someone' has.
Thank you, Phyllis.
Now, we'll just have to wait and see if she actually uses it.
In the process, we'll test that old adage about 'teaching an old dog new tricks.'
Anybody wanna make a wager?
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