A Thorn In My Side

Pointed Hats

Part Took, wild, untamed, foolish, and free. Took's are rule breakers and trouble makers. My mother, Belladonna Took, could never stay put. She was always running off into the woods in trousers and not coming home for hours, and when she finally made it to the house she was covered in mud. When she was at home she would dream up her next big adventure. Not a very respectable hobbit in her youth.

Part Baggins, calm, honorable, predictable, homely. Baggins are the prime example of all things a hobbit should be. My father, Bungo Baggins, never did anything unexpected. He was the prime example for others, never late for anything. When he wasn't busy with his studies he would tend to his garden and always dressed appropriately. A very respectable hobbit in his youth.

No one understood why Bungo Baggins, who could wed any hobbit lass that suited his fancy, chose Belladonna Took. Perhaps he took it upon himself to tame the wild woman, or maybe he was intrigued by her vivid imagination. When Bungo had gone to Belladonnas father for her hand, Old Took was pleasantly surprised. He worried his daughter would end up alone because of her oddity. After they had begun their marriage, the folks of the Shire were pleased to note Belladonna became more agreeable. She stopped slipping into the woods and wearing men's clothes, something no one thought possible. Although she still had the far away look in her eyes, she became respectable.

Not long after she settled down, the couple announced they were expecting. Bungo never glowed with more pride than when they announced the coming of their fist child. Nine short months later I was born, Bella Baggins. To the dismay of Hobbiton, I was a bit too Tookish for their liking and in their eyes they had gained another fool of a Took. They grieved when I would run around the Shire in men's clothes, kept my hair like that of a boys, and swam in the pond, tracking mud everywhere. My mother would laugh at me, and look at me with a twinkle in her eye. Father on the other hand would fret when I was mistaken for a boy and would bring frogs to the table. Oh yes, I was the spitting image of my mother. On occasion I was more Baggins than Took. I knew how to behave properly, and how to keep my word. Folks weren't shore if the mixing of Took and Baggins was a good thing. It appeared as of I would never grow out of my delinquency.

When a harsh winter blew in, killing crops and shriveling our stores of food, I had no choice but to grow up. It started with coughing. Father assured us it was nothing, a cold. But when that coughing turned to wheezing and he could no longer hold his supper down, I knew it was no longer nothing. We had no way to prepare for his passing. In the few weeks that followed mother began to cough too, and in less than a month, both of them where just gone. I became an orphan.

I would feel the stares of those who pitied me on my back as I walked through Hobbiton in the months that followed. My trousers were traded for dresses a respectable hobbit lass would wear, my hair grew out, I no longer acted as a Took. I became a hobbit my father would be proud of. No longer would I let my mind wonder to the trees and the forest, I was a Baggins.

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The sun shown down on me as I tended to my garden. My tomatoes were perfect for picking, so as I busied myself with my plants, I scarce noticed the tall bearded man in a tall pointed hat standing at my gate. My hair, that now reached my elbows, was pulled into a tight bun on top atop my head with a few strands falling into my face. My simple brown dress way gathered around me as I rested on my knees. It was only when I heard someone clear their throat that I looked up.

I squinted up at the strange looking man. "Um, good morning." I offered as I brushed my hands off and clambered to my feet.

He peered down at me. "What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you mean to say you feel good on this particular morning, or are you simply stating this is a morning to be good on?"