LEARNING AT THE POTTER'S WHEEL

Well, it’s that time of year. Fall is waning and winter is on its way. Occasionally, even where we live, it can get cold. Here, it is a penetrating cold because of the high humidity. I didn’t appreciate the difference that humidity makes in the cold until I visited Montana during the winter. The moisture in the southeast seems to help the cold to penetrate to the bone.

One of those cold days hit last week. It wasn’t too bad, but the wind was up. Duke and the boys went outside to play. It wasn’t long until I heard protests. Shortly afterwards, Duke arrived and announced that the littlest one wouldn’t keep the hood on his jacket over his head. I handed off one of the knitted hats and things were fine . . . until I glanced outside.

There stood Z-man with his hoodie, hat down and a knitted cap shoved over his head, one ear covered, the other ear folded and uncovered. His entire neck was exposed to the wind.

I dashed outside to adjust his knitted hat and pull the hoodie up over his head. Arms went upward and blocked my efforts accompanied by a resounding, “NO!”

“See? I TOLD you he won’t wear it,” Duke tried not to sound too smug.

“Just a minute,” I said as I returned to the house. I grabbed a scarf and returned to the battlefield. “Here,” I told Z-man, “If you won’t wear the hood up, you’ll wear this to keep your neck warm.” The first effort was quickly undone by the little guy.

This is what you call one of those line-in-the-sand moments. I studied the scene. Duke was there, congratulating himself that he wasn’t the only one having difficulties with this. Z-man was there, lip jutted out and defiant. B was watching from the sidelines, glad he decided to wear his hat.

In a swift movement, I grabbed Z-man and wrapped and tied the scarf like I was in a rodeo competition, daring him to remove it. I left the scene with the sound of protests alerting the neighbors to Z-man’s plight and Duke’s voice trying to calm things.

I returned to the house and waited.

Nature would need a few moments to take its course.

In about five minutes, Duke returned with the scarf in his hand.

“You took it off of him?” I asked, trying to sound surprised.

“Yeah,” Duke replied. “He decided to wear his hoodie like the big boys.”

“Oh,” I responded nonchalantly, “That’s nice.”

When Duke returned to the yard, I smiled.

The Great Hoodie War concluded without firing a shot.