Warm and Fuzzies

I love my fuzzy hat.

It’s a well-worn, gently pilled crocheted hat that sits atop my head like a round yarn mushroom.

I don’t know if it’s the soft perkiness or spring-like greens and pinks and yellows and purples, but people are so nice to me when I wear it. Shoppers in stores break into conversation about bunnies. Cashiers actually smile at me in checkout lines. Cashiers. In stressed-out checkout lines. In Towson.

Maybe I look a bit cuddly or perhaps ridiculous.

But it doesn’t matter. My daughter game me this hat. And I think it’s magic.


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