Hats Off in the Shish Mahal...

I've never been a hat person. Not that I have anything against hats. In fact, some hats I quite like... just not on me. Hats look terrible on me. Which, I think, is due, in part, to my gigantic head. I'm serious, my head is the size of a small watermellon (or maybe a large honey-dew, depending on your preferred mellon measurement unit). If you're ever starved for something to laugh at, just put a hat on my head, and I guarantee you'll get the goofy giggles.

Anyway, one day while visiting our cousins in Ontario, our parents decided to take us to "Ontario Place" since it was a hot day, and we must have been driving them wacky. Now, Ontario Place is kind of like a cheap version of Paramount Canada's Wonderland, which is kind of like a cheap version of DisneyLand, which is kind of like a cheap version of DisneyWorld, which is more or less a really expensive version of staying at home watching the Disney Channel and shoving a fork in your eye.

It was a blistering hot day, and my mother insisted that we all wear hats to keep the sun off. I was adamant in my refusal, knowing even then, at the age of 12, how goofy I looked in hats. And of course, these were no stylin' hats, this was the '80s and these were Neon green trucker-style caps that said Ontario Hydro, or NB-Power or something on them. But of course, all complaints fell on deaf ears since parents have a vengeful way of making up for the embarrassment of their own childhoods by making you wear the goofiest shit possible (this also explains the fur-lined eskimo parkas I had to wear as a child while my friends wore ski-jackets... oh the tears).

So this is all to say that I was wearing a hat, not used to a hat, hating my hat, grumpy, and sulking my way through this amusement park. We were walking through one of the main buildings, which was air-conditioned, and I didn't want to talk to anyone, so I had my head stuck in a brochure. As I was reading, I glanced up and saw someone walking toward me, but I didn't think much of it. I figured that the guy would get out of my way since we were a large group, and hey, I was obviously busy reading. Next thing I knew, WHAM! I walked face first into a big mirrored column. I hit the floor hard. The figure I had seen was, of course, myself in the mirror, walking towards myself. But I hadn't really looked, and in my quick glance I didn't recognize myself in that stupid hat.

I came to a few seconds later to see my Dad standing over me. He pointed at me and started to laugh. "You know I love you right?" he said as he helped me up,"but you're one stupid kid."