Today I Don the Wife Hat

I proudly don the wife hat this morning, a sepia and ivory tweed fedora with flecks of gold thread woven throughout. I am sure you were picturing a Cinderella bandanna for a homely bride scouring over the dishes and scrubbing the tiles with a toothbrush. Not this wife! My wife hat is brimming with style, a symbol of the freedom afforded the wife of a prince.

Prince Philip holds his lady in high esteem. He spoils me with lavish love, proudly endorsing the quirkiness of his little princess. He appreciates my love for style and acknowledges that I express who I am with every gold earring, bangle bracelet, tuxedo blouse, and skinny jean that I own. He breathes in every whiff of aromatic spritz with which I splatter my neck and wrists, gratified with the awareness that he has provided me with all the things that make me Me.

So I proudly don the wife hat he bought for me in Georgetown, D.C. a year ago, when I lusted for this lid so severely. With panache, I fulfill my weekend duties of collecting his clothing from the local cleaners and gathering groceries for my gentleman's delight. And though I remove this cap that crowns my head while cleaning out the litter box and scrubbing the toilet, I do not assume Cinderella's rags because I know I can be Me, regardless of my engaged activity.