As a colt, I was obsessed with top hats.
I know, it is a very weird thing to obsess over. In fact, my first memory consists of getting a top hat for my 3rd birthday. My first top hat in a large collection, in fact. Even now, when I walk down the streets of a bustling and thriving Manehatten, whenever I see a top hat, I become flustered. I'm not even sure of why. Maybe it is just that it reminds me of my early childhood, or maybe it is because I am a huge dork. Either one will do.
My childhood home was a quaint little place on the outskirts of Manehatten. Well, outskirts is a bit of an overstatement. Really, my family home was quite far from the city, tucked in the rolling hills of North-Eastern Equestria. Not many ponies came our way, but when they did, we welcomed them into our home with open hooves.
The air was always nice in my old home. I fondly remember a tire swing in my vast backyard tied to a giant olive tree we had. My little sister Sunny and I would always fight to go on the swing first. The house was a small flat, 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. My sister and I shared a room, though we always fought along the way. However, this chapter isn't called "Why I Hated My Little Sister", now is it? I think it is high time I told the story of my first top hat.
I remember on that day, my father woke me up. My sister had not been born yet in this time of my life. My birthday is June 21st, the same day as the Summer Sun Celebration. It has always been a pain, considering that now I only get one set of presents despite being born on a present-giving holiday. At least I don't have it as bad as the December 25th people.
Anyway, my father awoke me in the most humorous way that day, by plopping a top hat on my face. That got me awake for sure. I awoke with a start and the hat fell in my lap. It was black little thing with a grey bow around it and a tag saying "Happy Birthday Verizon". Top hats were all of the rage in Manehatten at the time, so I was overjoyed when I saw such a high society luxury item in my lap. I had always admired the high class of Manehatten and my family definitely noticed. However, it wasn't like I kept it a very good secret.
When I could, I scramble up the tallest hill bordering our little valley and gaze at the distant lights of the city. Occasionally, if I could somehow convince my mom, I would take my food up there and stare at the small flickering lights on the horizon. I called it Stargaze Hill, due to the fact you could see almost the entire valley from the top of that hill. Being a small little 3 year old thing, it took me quite a while to climb all the way up to the top. It wasn't unusual for me to finally get to the top only to have my mom call me down to dinner the moment I got up. I would always be grumpy at dinner when that happened though, and for good reason.
Anyway, afterwards I wore that hat wherever I went. I would constantly pose in the mirror with the hat on my head. It fit absolutely perfectly, and I loved it. Sometimes, when I went to Stargaze Hill, I would set the hat down next to me and we would watch the lights flicker together.
My mother would always be worried about the amount of time I spent with that hat. Sometimes, I would overhear her talking with my father before he went to work in his Manehatten firm.
"Leather! Maybe if you would just listen to me!" My mother would argue with him before he went out of the door.
"Maybelle, it is perfectly normal for little colts like him to be attached to items. You have just lost touch of pony-kind." He would say, tucking his newspaper under his coat.
"Lost touch- FUCK YOU!" Her eyes would become wild in fury as she threw everything she could at the stallion. He would quickly duck out of the door and my mom would end up crying. Being such an innocent little colt, I would try to comfort her, but she would end up throwing things at me too. Even though I grew angry at her when she did this, wanting to imitate my dad, as a grown stallion, I understand now. However, as much as I hate to side with my dad, I do believe she was overreacting to the whole top hat business.
Despite all of the issues my hat caused, I still loved it whole-heartedly. That hat lasted me until I was 6 years old when it one day wore down and broke. I even hosted a proper funeral for the poor thing, burying it under the olive tree in my backyard. It was quite a somber day, a day I do not like to remember. However, in the purposes of an autobiography, I must recount every event; good and bad.
By the point my first hat died, I had collected a sizable amount of top hats. About 10, if I remember correctly. My relatives in Manehatten and beyond began to take notice of my growing affection towards top hats and they would send hats every birthday, as well. Some were tall, others too big on me, and others just looked plain stupid. Nothing ever compared to that original top hat, so I always only wore that one.
And so that ended the legacy of my first top hat, and I learned a valuable lesson when I stared at that makeshift gravestone. That lesson was that things never last forever. Things like depression, love, and even, yes, top hats, never last forever. And sadly, my time of tranquility and peace in my home would also leave me. Leave me very soon.
