Hot Hat

These Friday posts crack me up. Each week there is some semblance of a theme; maybe he’s more fashionable than I thought and he just wants the looks to be coordinated each week. Maybe I’m just reading into it a little. Either. Both. Neither. 

This particular week, we’ve got a lot of blurs: this kid doesn’t stop! Ever. We’ve also got a pretty regular mix of headwear–although this is the first appearance of a stolen hat. Yep. Mr. Gray and I have a klepto on our hands. So sad; such an early age for such a bad habit.

If there’s anything he does now, it’s how to pick a wardrobe staple. Common, everyday diaper? I think not. It’s the base for numerous options. 



And, if a shoulder strap for a suitcase hasn’t made its way to the closet yet, get to shopping! Plus, mi‘ins and boots on the wrong feet? Winner, winner, chicken dinner!


The stolen hat. Our very own tailgate thief. Aggies don’t lie, cheat, or steal, son. We know who it belongs to, and they were totally okay with him having it; he did steal it initially, though. 

He had a blast with this thing. On and off. Head. Hands. Someone else’s head. On and on it went. He loved it.



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