My Hat

Last week, I received something in the mail. At first, it was just a little slip of paper in my mail box telling me a packaging was sitting, waiting for me at the post office (remember, a place I generally steer clear of). Then it was a box. A good size brown box with my name and address on it from some man in La Rochelle whom I could not identify (I don't even know where La Rochelle is).

I was puzzled. I started hacking the box open by poking my fingers and hitting the box (which was only marginally effective). Once my fingers had punctured enough holes in the box, I squinted into the darkness. All of this while walking down a busy Parisian street with French gawkers looking on. I was shaking the box, peering inside; basically I was a kid trying to guess her present. With frenzy, I finally succeeded in opening one of my holes big enough to see color. Light blue. Light blue felt. Breaching the last hole and more of the box, red and gold. Gold trim, red top. It was a hat.

I squealed like a pig. It was a hat like the one my military men were wearing, remember that? When I finally tore the box open to see the full hat in its splendor, I was panting with delight. Who on earth would have sent me such wonderment? Who would search this out and send this to me unannounced and so whimsically?

I called Xavier to thank him for such a surprise and felt like he really understood me to have sought out such an item. Negatory. Wasn't him. Hmmm. Then I thought and thought and there is only one person that sensitive and that thoughtful: Cindy. Thank you Cindy. That was a moment of pure rapture.