I reach for my hat. The wind whips it three steps out of my reach and then four. I trot to catch it. I lunge - once, twice and then on the third time I get it. Relief - I would hate to lose this hat. I look over my shoulder. M strolls along watching my antics."Thanks for helping me get my hat."
"You looked like you had it under control."
"The wind kept blowing it out of my reach."
"Well, at first it looked like it was going to be easy."
"It still would've been nice to know you're my hero. And that you'd help me catch my hat."
M smiles and quits the conversation. We're walking the beach at Manzanita on our take two trip to Tillamook. This time in the sun and, without the rain, we can stop and explore.
Walking back, now into the wind, I keep my hat securely in my hand. Without mine to tease, the wind lifts off M's. He turns to chase it. What to do? Do I leave him to it or help to catch it?
I decide: "Let me help you." And I run to get in front of the hat so that, with the next gust of wind, it will blow against my legs. In a jiffy M snaps up his hat.
"See, that's how it's supposed to be done."
"I can tell you aren't happy I didn't help you get your hat."
I give him The Look. Say no more.
A fair number of sandy steps later, M pats my bum.
"Sorry, dear, next time I'll help you catch your hat."
That's more like it.
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