Sometimes hats make her happy and sometimes they don't

We decided to visit my parents house on New Year's Eve before we had to prepare for our very small, daughter-friendly New Year's Eve party at my in-laws. Of course, it is a moral imperative to wear the outfit to the house of the person who bought the baby the outfit the very next time you see him or her. So we bundled her into a huge, heavy purple and faux white fur jacket before strapping the baby's hands into gloves large enough for an infant King Kong. We then strapped one of those hats that only a mother would force a child to wear upon her very bald 9-month old head. I swear the velcro strap is linked to her larnyx because she suddenly let forth with a wail that shook that snow from the window panes. This wail continued to emanate from her very small lips until we unstrapped her 15 minutes later at my parent's house. She adored having her hat off and played nicely all evening.

Of course, then there was today. My dad had purchased her a bear hat with faux fur and ears, with a matching hat. We precariously strapped this different hat around her head as we held our own ears braced for the sudden shattering of the sound barrier. This time she just looked up at us, chewed on her face with her reverse vampire fangs, and smiled. No earth quakes, avalanches or tsunamis. Just a happy baby in a warm, ridiculous looking hat. So then we made our way in peaceful quiet back to my parent's house for a New Year's dinner. When we got here my wife took the hat off our daughter's head to only have her immediately scream louder than the traffic on the nearby highway. Shoving the hat back onto her head was like clicking mute on the largest speaker in the tri-state area. Hat off, scream, hat on, smile. Nothing more. Go figure. She played for a long time before deciding to take off her hat herself, later, on her terms.