Back when I was going on ad nauseam about showers, baths, and towels, I mentioned that my son-in-law looked like Pumpkinhead in the morning. How silly of me! Nobody knows about Pumpkinhead (or is it Punkinhead) any more.
At one time, at least in local Canadian Christmas mythology, he was one of Santa's helpers who was cursed with a tremendously unruly mop of hair. I remember feeling very badly for poor, poor Pumpkinhead. Now, no one knows who he is or was — even Google!
So it was that I was moved to take a picture of the boy this morning before he showered and departed for the long drive home. Then he took one of me, and THEN I morphed the two — put my face into his head. Well, I look at it and can't even see me in it although I know it is. How weird is that?
Unfortunately, this is what I look like now. I must tell you that it grieves me to look like this. I once had a full head of hair, and not to be too braggadocios about it, wasn't exactly the homeliest boy in the class. Just look at me now. I never thought that I would look like this. Sigh.