Last night my youngest son asked his dad if he could shape his cowboy hat, "just like yours!"
I sighed and said it probably wouldn't hold a good shape since it was probably the cheapest kids hat I could order in my time frame for Christmas last year. Yeah, Santa was cheap.
Much to my surprise, my husband stood up and reached for his old silver belly hat that had been on the hat rack for Lord only knows how long. He shook the dust off of it and placed it squarely on Chance's head.
My oldest son was not nearly as happy as the youngest was to get the old hat, as I could see the hurt welling up in his eyes. I gently reminded him that he’d just gotten a new hat for Christmas last year, and it was still in very nice condition. His dad had a few more words with him and hopefully it smoothed things over a bit.
Chance was soon educated on the finer points of handling his new hat and how to place it properly on his head. He stood in front of me knowing that his mother would get a photo of it and then had to inspect my handiwork.
The old hat apparently had some history I didn't know about—it was my husband's grandfather's hat. My husband used to wear it daily the past, but it hadn't been worn much in a while. He probably has worn it a handful of times since we've lived in our current home.
I too have a couple old hats I can’t get rid of. One is a palm leaf cowboy hat that I wore all during college and after I'd graduated. I don't think I got a new one until 2013 or 2014. This palm leaf is so brittle it's falling apart. I'm not real sure it'd survive if I passed it onto the boys. The boys each have a hat from my dad, and often share memories of their papa when they wear it.
What do you have that holds such special meaning as a generational cowboy hat that's in our family?