My Grand Poppy came last week bearing gifts.

A bust of some guy apparently named after me.

He was cool (Poppy I mean, not that other dude) and we hung out for a while.

And then Poppy totally blew my ancestral mind with a photograph of his own father, grandfather, great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather!  Turns out I’m the first son of the first son of the first son going back to, like, the stone age or something.  Wild!

So my dad and I struck our very best 19th century pose for the occasion.

Which tuckered me right out…