It finally happened.

I was in my cubicle, typing away at my workstation, when a co-worker of mine wandered in to ask me a question.

"Hang on a sec," I said, as I was just finshing up composing the e-mail I was working on. In response, she just patiently stood there in my cube, waiting for me to finish. Her eyes wandered over to my cube walls, where I've got various trivial materials pinned up: this year's Packers schedule, an art picture of the Mandlebrot set, half a dozen months-old Post-Its containing notes long since irrelevant, a bunch of photographs, including a recent one of my parents and their new dog.

That last caught her attention. "Is this your dad?" she asked, pointing to the fiftyish man in the picture.

I glanced over. "Yep," I answered.

"Oh." She spent another moment peering at the photo. "So, how come he's got more hair than you do?"

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