My oldest son is two years and seven months old right now. It's September, and the fall cool air has begun to roll in, breaking one of the hottest Colorado months in recent history. Going outside to play is a delight and a welcome change from the inside sequestration of fighting the heat wave.

A week or so ago, my son got a plastic safari hat that's just a hair too big for him. The kind you'd get for a themed birthday party. He loves it. He wears it every chance he gets. It's extremely cute. Watching him run around with it on is one of those emotional unlocks as a father that you never can fully predict when they'll happen, and you hold on to the feeling as tight as you can.

One day, he will not enjoy a hat like this in the same way. He'll get told that it's not "cool" or get made fun of for wearing such a silly hat. He'll lose some of the joyful elements that make him a blissful toddler as he ages into a boy, a teenager, a young man, an old man. He'll gain many other things in his humanity, better things in some cases. But it's a normal consequence of life to leave certain things behind as one expands into becoming their fullest self.