Concealed Yet Permanent

I knit you a yellow wool hat
with grosgrain streamers to
tie under your infant neck.
No ultrasounds existed so
I selected a unisex color.
Later you wore wooly hats
handmade by my mother;
she always made a pom-pom
from the leftover yarn. Your
silky hair received a nurse's
cap, proper and white, and
you'd worn college mortar
boards twice before. Bridal
veiling made you blush.
Your permanent Mommy
hat was invisible. And as
your firstborn entered
university life, you wondered
if it was still in place. Yes,
I noticed. It's still there,
but just smaller on your
head.