Italian G

 My son captured one of the pictures of me that Janet sent home, and labelled it in his phone, "Italian Dad."  It's not that picture, but another one that Janet snapped when I wasn't paying attention (I like to take the pictures, mainly to control the narrative, which is probably just the historian in me). 

This is a funny picture because it was right after I had accidentally shaved off my beard (I'll recount that misadventure some other time). Happily, the light behind my head helped hide the evidence. And I wasn't trying to cover up the crime, but instead was interrupted while trying to decide which pizza to order.