Monday was chilly in Happy Valley. The temperature read 26, but the wind was strong, so our daily mile and a half walk with Lucy was a cold one. (We shortened it. A mile was plenty.) Despite being fairly well-dressed and covered with a blanket, Rowan got cold and yelled as the wind chapped her cheeks.
On Tuesday, the temp was the same so I decided to really pull out all the stops. Though I didn't expect the wind to be as strong, I wasn't taking any chances. I needed that walk. (Damn you, cookies!) I dressed her in snow pants, boots, and grabbed her jacket, mittens and hat. I tossed the jacket on the floor so she could do her "1,2, Fliperoo!", and went into the living room to find my own shoes, which tend to migrate on a set of little feet. When I got back, she had her jacket on, but the hat was no where to be seen.
"Where is it?" I said, looking around the kitchen. I looked under the table. On top of the table. On the kitchen counter. On top of the freezer. In the living room. On the bookshelf. Nope.
"Sheesh!" I told Rowan. "I must be losing it. I just had your hat here. You have to have a hat on! It's too cold to go with just your hood. You need a hat."
"Hat? Hat?" she answered. Then the light went on in her eyes, and she stomped into the living room in her pink furry snowboots.
She came back wearing this.
Unfortunately, it didn't fit under her hood.