I have a lot of hats. Maybe not quite 500, like Bartholomew
Cubbins, but it sure feels like it. But like young Mr Cubbins, I am rarely
hatless. Often I wear two at once! Coming in from the outdoors I take off one ‘going
out’ hat, to reveal my smaller ‘indoor’ hat. That way, my
wig will stay covered, and I won’t have to do a self-conscious swap in public.
Our front hall is now festooned with hats. Open the closet, and it overflows
with jaunty caps, eager for the right occasional.
About 100 of these hats are the result of my own panic
buying. Prior to baldness I over-anticipated the amount of head coverings I was
going to need. What made it more seductive is the best hat store in the universe, tucked
away on the 3rd floor of princess Margaret Hospital. They have a
fine selection! (And the hats, though appropriate for baldies, are not specifically
for that purpose. Their splendid stock is selected for it’s considerable size,
excellent head coverage, and top-notch quality).
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The 500 Hats of Me |
Another bunch of caps were ordered on-line at 3 am from a company
in Utah. They specialize in head coverings for girls like me, and while not
particularly stylish, are very cozy for bed.
The remaining 300 hats (I exaggerate, of course) were gifts
from my favorite people, who correctly predicted that I’d relax under the
comfort of something stylish and cozy. These ones are special (Thanks Caleb!), because of the sweet consideration that went into their selection, and the understanding that an egghead needs low coverage, a generous fit, as well as a certain je ne sais quoi.
Both Bart Cubbins and I can stack our hats quite high. As he
takes off one hat, another appears that is more beautiful than the last, until
he reveals the final hat, which is gilded, and covered with gems.
My hat stack is a little shorter. As all the hats are
removed there is a wig named Julie, which though not gilded, has some nice
reddish-brown highlights. Beneath that, there is my own gilded crown.
In itself it is
a gem, and my mother says it is perfect.
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