He knew it was a hat; absolutely, unequivocally, undoubtedly it was a hat. What he couldn’t figure out was why it was such a hard hat. Why there was that little point to it and why it had a funny, bumpy brim that went all the way around the edges and why it was darker. He turned it around in his fingers, wondering. In the silence he heard the scrabble of tiny feet and that peculiar gurgling, clicking sound of mischief makers escaping; and finally the penny dropped and he knew the truth.

Henry definitely had a Goblin infestation.

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