We love us some hats here at the Rowdy House. Daddy wears a ball cap nearly every day. The dress up trunk is packed full of every style imaginable. The dresser drawers have a decent selection of publicly acceptable head wear, too. Hats are tres chic.
Tonight, I rediscovered a long forgotton sun hat purchased for one of those loungy beach vacays we used to take. Much to Em's and Roo's amusement, I wore it during their bath time. As soon as they were out of the tub, they ran for the (current) favorite hats, cute pink crocheted newsboy caps. Then, they assigned J a felt fedora with a kind of oom-papa vibe.
So, there we were. Wearing our hats and prepping for bed.
The hats served as a gateway to imagination land. Somewhere along the line, little girls in hats morphed into baby chicks. Clucking and peeping chicks running about their room, flapping their arms wings. Naturally, J and I broke out in song. Well, sort of. We hummed the Chicken Dance.
You've not seen anything cuter than Em and Roo dancing the Chicken Dance in their nighties and pink caps. Most especially the finale with the booty wiggle.
Roo told me, on my way out the door, 'goodnight chicken mama'.
Goodnight chicken littles.
Posts
