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When AJ and Bart first came to us, Bart loved her ‘muzzies’. They were a large selection of muslin cloths which she would choose from to carry with her. We had muzzies in every room, in the car and she would have three of them in her cot at night.  I learnt to always have at least one spare with me and could often be found with one hanging out of the back pocket of my jeans.  When I opened the washing machine door each muzzy was carefully transferred into the tumble dryer by little hands and then hugged tightly when it came out again all toasty warm and smelling fresh.  As she is growing older, muzzies get left behind. Occasionally she can be seen walking around the house with a couple and she always asks for one when she is feeling unwell (in fact there is one on the kitchen table as I write this) but on the whole the security she found in a muzzy is not needed anymore.

Now, Jay has a hat. It is the most minging, skanky, disgusting hat ever. I tease him and call it his security hat as he won’t let it go and gets most annoyed when he can’t find it.   I remember the day he came home from a car show with it, so pleased with his purchase and it was a very nice hat… eighteen years ago. It is now frayed, battered and filthy.  I have washed it… many times. Even his Mum has washed it at least once, but he moans it doesn’t fit afterwards until he can stretch it back into ‘shape’.

Jay, Willow and The Hat in 2007

Jay, The Hat and I in 2007

A very brave Bart trying The Hat on in 2010

I have also bought replacement hats for him, including a leather Australian bush hat… but no, they are never the same as his battered oily cloth one.

Bart modeling the bush hat.

Last summer when we moved house The Hat went missing. Before you all go “uh huh missing… yeah right” no I did not hide it. (Never thought of it actually.) The Hat was searched for, accusations were made and small moments of mourning held each time the realisation came the hat was no more. But last week he found it again in his shed and since The Hat has never been far from his head.  You would have thought that if a three-year old can let go of her ‘security blanket’ and forty-two year old could do the same.Recently rediscovered ‘The Hat’ goes to the beach.

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