Headshrinker

I have an unusually large head. I'm serious. But everytime I state this fact, people say, No you don't. But I really do and I know they're just saying I don't to make me feel better.

But yesterday, I had proof.

I don't typically wear hats, not because I don't like them, but because they don't fit. Remember that whole cowgirl trend (in the 80s and then again a few years ago?). Me too, but I didn't wear a cowboy hat either time. And I can't wear a beret without the edges cutting into my forehead or a newsboy cap or a fedora or a bucket hat. But because it's winter and -23 without the wind chill, I have to wear a winter hat. This year I found a white knitted tuque that has sparkly wool interspersed. It's very cute and sometimes I actually don't mind wearing it. Until yesterday.

Yesterday, I decided to take the long way home from work, on the busier streets so I could window-shop, instead of the back, empty side streets home. So I walked with and past hundreds-maybe thousands-of other pedestrians for twenty minutes, in and out of stores. At first, my head still felt a bit cold, despite the thickness of my hat, but I thought nothing of it, since it WAS unusually cold out. I continued on, and when I was getting close to home, I passed a gaggle of guys, probably in high school. I noticed they were looking at me, all of them, which was a bit odd, but I figured, maybe I just look cute in my hat, and I kept walking, secretly flattered. I stopped in to get my dry cleaning, then continued home, into the lobby, said hi to the concierge and into the elevator, which happens to be mirrored, which is where I witnessed the atrocity.

My head had BUSTED out of the hat.

My hat, which had, until that afternoon, been knitted into a peak at the top, had come unravelled. Instead of being closed at the top, LIKE A HAT, it was a tube, sticking straight up off my head. I looked like I was wearing a dickie (remember those faux turtlenecks?) on my head. I was wearing a head dickie. A HICKIE.

And everyone -- the hundreds of pedestrians, the lady at the dry cleaning shop, the group of boys, the concierge, and my neighbours in the elevator--had all seen me and my big head in my hickie.

And people think I'm exaggerating about my big head.