Ablah, you are right...

...most of the time, but what were you thinking when you drew this picture of me?





It doesn't even look like me. You do have my hands anatomically correct to my legs, but my body isn't big enough. It looks like my torso has aged and shriveled up faster than the rest of my body (I'm only 30...argghhhh). Then there is my head! What are you trying to tell me? Do I have a big head? Checking!... No! Am I conceited?(where is my mirror at?)...I don't think so. I think you got the ears right, they are short and they do stick out. I do have big lips! I don't, (repeat) I don't have a mustache! My hair isn't lopsided either. It must be a toupee! I'm losing my hair (nooooooooo!), but I won't be buying one of those. That's why I cut my hair completely off! No toupees!

I wonder if I was wearing the only green shirt in my wardrobe that day, because I really don't like green. It was my old friend Pon's favorite color, but not mine. Yet somehow Ablah you managed to give me a green shirt, and it's part flannel. I may have bad taste in picking clothes, but not that bad. Back to the conceit issue. I know my name, I don't have it embroidered on to any of my jeans, my dear sister. Although I think that is a clever way how you drew it. If I stand still and have both my legs together it spells Charles. It's funny that I can afford some cool pants with my name on them, but I can't get a real pair of Nikes. I guess it's some off brand, or some bootleg version called Vibe.

Just kidding Ablah! I think it's a wonderful picture that you drew of me. I kept a lot of things that you made for me over the years, and I thought I would share one in my journal. I hope you don't mind.

Love,

Charles

P.S. Blogger doesn't know how to spell Toupee! I guess it must never come up, unless it's in my journal.