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I need to take a picture of my son. He looks like a very young Luke Skywalker right now - not the one from that relatively modern monstruosity, called Phantom Menace, but the one you would have gotten if you took Mark Hamill circa The New Hope and reversed him back in time about 10 years. He's got leaner and more defined during his week-long flirt with flu. Now there are those big, wide-set grey-blue eyes, with the eyelashes as long as my fingers, looking at me from a thin little face from under a dark blond, unruly mop which we're not able to comb down. I think I won't get it cut for a while. I kinda like what I see. :)
Of course, I don't think Luke Skywalker would have been caught dead sitting naked on the edge of a bathtub with his head propped on his fists, singing 'Grandma, come wash my butt!' in ten different tunes, or crying bitter tears over an unsaved Lego game. There come the differences. :)
Of course, I don't think Luke Skywalker would have been caught dead sitting naked on the edge of a bathtub with his head propped on his fists, singing 'Grandma, come wash my butt!' in ten different tunes, or crying bitter tears over an unsaved Lego game. There come the differences. :)