The first hint that our household was about to be turned upside-down was seeing this visage one night when I awoke. All had changed. The Viking Cometh.
What I didn’t realize at the time is that a hat had invaded my life and glommed onto me. There was something mystical yet annoying about this hat. It did odd things and in odd ways.
Like the time it went missing.
I searched and searched for the hat. I mean, seriously, who knows what a Viking hat on the loose might actually do? And then there it was. Sitting on top of our pink crystal light. Some mystical flashback to the Vikings sailing under the Aurora Borealis?
But the mystical tricks were just starting. Can you imagine? It tried to turn me into a Jawa Viking. Please. I was having none of that.
I thought that perhaps the hat would be better behaved in public. So we took the hat pumpkin picking with us. Oh man, what a bad idea. I mean, I knew by this point that the hat had a mind of its own. But the hat tried to drive the car. IT TRIED TO DRIVE THE CAR. I about had it after that.
What did it think? That it could change gears while not looking out the windshield? I tossed that thing in the back seat so fast its head was spinning. Silly, dangerous hat.
Now Viking hat turned into pouting hat. So what does it do when we get to the pumpkin patch? It jumps out of the car and tries to hide in plain sight. A little obvious, don’t you think?
Okay. I admit it. Maybe the hat and I have some characteristics in common. I, too, like to be in the middle of things. So when the hat flew off the gourd and onto my head just to get in the picture, I couldn’t blame it too much.
Phew! What a long day. Even a Viking Hat needs a rest now and then.
I had accepted the fact that this hat was with us for the long haul. And even understood when I began to feel half-Irish, half-Viking. But then the hat went completely out of control. It began to breed.