So said Husband. And we did but only after spending the best part of half a day wandering the lesser-known streets of Rome trying to find somewhere that sold them and ending up going to the Stadio Olympico itself for them. On the plus side our bus tickets gave us 10% discount so, in spite of the rain, the long bus journey and the fear that we wouldn't manage to get any, Husband was pleased because he got a bargain ...
Before the game began an Italian supporter came up to me and asked if we could swap hats. I said, 'No!'
'Okay, then,' he said, 'we make a deal. When Italy wins you give me your flower; if Wales wins I give you my hat.'
We shook on it. Husband said, 'That was a bit brave of you,' but I had confidence in my boys. Well placed confidence. It wasn't a brilliant game - the terrible rain prevented that - but we got the right result. So afterwards, as my new friend was showing sudden reluctance I marched up to him, prodded him in the shoulder and held out my hand. He sighed. 'Um, er, what do I say? Um, congratulations'
Incidentally if I was hoping that my daffodil hat and red jumper would make me stand out from the crowd - and possibly get on telly - I was badly misjudging the enthusiasm of Welsh supporters for showing their Welshness. From dragons to flags to kilts to leeks to onesies, they were all there in all their glamour.