You know those times you decide to do something festive AND support family in the process? Like attending your niece's high school Christmas concert? With three youngsters in tow? When the afternoon has been a steady downward descent into a parenting disaster zone?
Of course, you attend, because you said you would. And because it is the festive season. And you want to support your niece.
Then your 3 year-old has a tantrum during the third song, and you carry her out as quickly as possible while trying to avoid falling headfirst down the super-steep auditorium steps that are of varying depths and have no railing.
So you are killing time in a high school hallway with a child who has just been screaming, "Let me go!" and "I want to ride the alligator [elevator]!!!", wondering if you dare show your face in the auditorium again (and how long it will be before you are back out, in the hallway).
And as you wait a bit longer, observing your child's degree of emotional regulation to determine her readiness to try the concert again, you decide to peruse the wares on display for the silent auction. You have never before bid on silent auction items, but the knitted wool ladies socks, shawl, and baby sweater catch your eye. The starting bid is low, so you figure you may has well have a go at it. Then, in your reluctance to re-enter the auditorium with a potentially volatile little human, you browse some more and end up bidding (half in amusement) on these:
After enduring an intermission that included children (literally) trying to climb the grooved auditorum walls, jumping down sets of steps (from the highest point - seriously, the steepest steps ever), running and shrieking, and performing other antics involving kicking siblings' seats, chewing gum picked up off of the floor, flipping seats, climbing steps and seats (and falling off), kicking the backs of others' seats, whining and crying (again), and more...at least you end up with the satisfaction of coming home with these hats.
And darn it all, these hats will be worn come summer, despite one's husband intending to have a good laugh every time one of them is sported.
Laughter is good medicine, so I'm doing him a favour.