Instant Gratification

The weather looked relatively mild in New York City, and I could not fit one more thing in my bag so I decided to leave my hat at home. It's a pretty hat, handmade and knit in the colors of the sunrise: orange, purple and pink. One evening I spent a couple hours looking for it on Etsy.com.

The first day was tolerable walking under gray skies and through the chilly air and so was the second. The third day, New Year's Eve, B and I ventured down to Times Square in the afternoon. We had plans to be inside and warm dining with friends in the evening, but right then the snow had started blowing, the wind was making me squint, I was longing for the hat I had left within arm's reach as we headed out the door three days ago.

B, ever the voice of reason, points out that I could just buy another hat. This kind of thing is irksome when i already own a perfectly good hat, but he is right. So without a Dick's Sporting Goods or EMS in sight, we go into a Gap. Times Square is already filling up with merrymakers, the weather is forcast to feel like 0, and I'm thinking pickings will be slim. They are. I tried on a toddler's hat as I have a small head (don't worry - it's proportionate to the body), but it was just a touch short.

Back into the arctic wind again, we spot a sidewalk vendor ahead selling those cute hats that come over your ears with the braided strings hanging down. I always wanted one of those! The first one I try on is really cute so I try on five more and end up getting the first one. B pays the vendor, and I pull my pretty new hat in cream, olive and deep orange snuggly over my head. Instantly the blowing wind is hushed, my hair isn't blowing into my mouth and my head is warm. There is something intensely gratifying about buying something precisely when you need it. Buying a hat for the possibility of frozen earlobes isn't nearly as delightful as providing immediate relief for ones that already are.