He wore it once on a drizzly day in S.F.. He brought it to NYC. He wore it the second time on a rainy Manhattan day enroute to a restaurant. He forgot it at said restaurant. We called them. They couldn’t find it. Hat gone. Husband hatless again.
The moral of this Aesop’s fable: You can’t make a zebra change its stripes and you can’t change a headless (er hatless) hubby.
I’m still wearing my 20 year old men’s fedora to keep my brains dry. But I give up on him.