Rowan has this irrational fear of the wind, and even when he was really little he would get panicky if it was windy outside. When I would pick him up from daycare and start getting his coat on, he would ask me “Is it winny?” and he always puts his hood up if he has one. He also wears a baseball cap the majority of the time, and by “majority” I mean not at bathtime or bedtime. And that’s because I’m a stickler.
Well, if you’ve never experienced the splendor of a Nebraska spring, let me just tell you it can be a long season if you are scared of the wind. This necessitates holding onto your baseball cap for dear life, which makes walking, carrying things, or going up or down stairs very tricky.
So Monday starts off with a wind advisory. We’re running late, like usual, and Rowan is supposed to be walking to the car while I lock the front door. Except he’s standing stock still at the top of the porch steps holding onto his hat with both hands. I’m getting ready to use the mom voice when he looks up at me with the biggest eyes I’ve ever seen, just brimming with tears and says, “Mama? Carry me?” I couldn’t pick him up fast enough.
Me: You know, buddy, your hat isn’t going to blow away.