The Hat with a Story

So there’s this hat. It’s a tan ballcap with a dark brown brim and the words Wood-Mizer in orange across the front. It’s covered with dirt and paint splotches. It’s Phil’s hat. He wore it all the time in college.

Phil and I during his senior year and my freshman year at Carleton. At one of the “brarkfests” that he and his roommates hosted several times a week.
No Wood-Mizer hat in this picture, but it’s still a funny picture of Phil and his roommates.
A giant Thanksgiving dinner or “Tharkfest” at Phil’s apartment. Phil’s at the very, very back with the Wood-Mizer hat.
Phil and I dated for 10 weeks at Carleton. At the beginning of spring term, we’d started to talk about dating. Phil said he didn’t want to do a long distance relationship after graduating. I said, “Well, we’ve got ten weeks until then.” When Phil graduated from Carleton, he and I broke up, as agreed upon. He dropped me off at the airport. I was upset, probably crying. He put his hat on my head. He says now that it was a promise to figure it out eventually. I wore that hat all the time.
Here’s my little brother modeling it as well.
No hat in this picture, but I couldn’t leave out my little sisters being adorable. And to think they’ll be able to drive at the end of this year.
The night before our wedding, Phil sent a gift over for me. I sent him the hat back. His promise had been kept. He figured it out.
Fast forward a little more than four years. Phil’s feeding Jaye a bottle last Saturday. He says, “Now our daughter is playing with and grabbing the Wood-Mizer hat.”
At this point the hat was stuck on her face. She couldn’t figure out how to get it off. I just laughed and laughed at her until it finally fell off.
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