The Missing Hat

“Simon, do you have any clue where you saw Beau’s hat last?”

“No I don’t mommy!! Please find it!” Whines Simon.

“Ok, honey. Don’t worry, I will find it, just wait in bed!”

So begins the almost nightly ritual. I lie here in a dark corner of the house as Simon's mother frantically searches for me. Today, I have been kicked under the couch by the dog and am currently sitting next to a bouncy ball, some cat toys, and discarded food wrappers. But previously I have been lodged under the refrigerator, pushed under the stove, misplaced under and behind beds and chairs, left in the sand box or the car, kicked behind the toilet, and much more. Basically, if I fit under or in it, I have wound up there at least once.

As I continue to wait in my hiding spot, Simon’s mom can be heard frantically searching the house, as she does almost every night. She has to do this because if Beau the cowboy does not have his hat, Simon will refuse to go to sleep and will cry until I am found. He has been this way ever since he got it for his second birthday. Of course, I don’t matter to Simon as much during the day when he is running around the house and playing, but I better be on Beau’s head at bedtime, or else!

I used to not get lost as much, but Simon has pulled me off of, and roughly shoved me onto, his cowboy doll so many times that I no longer fit perfectly and I now fall off very easily. And since Simon carries the doll around almost constantly as he runs around the house with the energy of a typical four-year-old, I fall off almost daily and easily get pushed into corners, under things, etc. Simon’s mom tried gluing me onto Beau once to keep me from getting lost, but Simon ripped me back off so quickly, that she gave up and just resigned herself to the fact that she has to search for me every night.

As she finishes upstairs and arrives downstairs, I hear Simon’s mother sighing and huffing as she hastily searches the foyer, the kitchen, and the bathroom, checking behind and under everything she can think of. Next, she moves to the living room, where I wound up today. Good, she is close. This game will be over soon enough.

She checks behind the tv, under the tv stand, under the recliner, and behind the couch. Finally, Simon’s mother bends down and checks under the couch. She breathes a loud sigh of relief and smiles as she shouts up to Simon, who is still upstairs in his bed, “Found it under the couch!!”

“Yay, thanks Mommy!”

Simon’s mom picks me up and rushes back upstairs to her son’s room. Moments later I am reunited with the cowboy I belong to, and Simon is tucked into bed and soon drifts off to sleep. So ends the nightly ritual, although it will surely be repeated again tomorrow!