This is the picture I intended to post first on my blog, but the duct tape glove distracted me.
I have Frank's permission to post this with his face visible. He thinks no one reads this. There might be someone....
I originally saved this picture as "Kiltenstein." But he's not a monster, he's a human being. He's also a superhero, so I renamed him "Kiltman."
"I am the Kiltman, they are the Kiltmen, I am the walrus, Goo goo g' joob!"
(I'm afraid of overusing quotation marks, so I hope I am using them properly.)
He left off the sporran in this picture. But he wore the whole regalia to school the next day. I made him take spare clothes. He was glad, because there were some flippages attempted at nutrition break. So he changed.
Thanks to Sportkilt! And most especially to his MorFar who has proudly worn a kilt for many years as a Scottish dance instructor even though he's not genetically a scot. Thanks for setting a good example ("Hey, don't worry! Your grandpa wears a kilt!"). We're pleased that the HH indroduced some good scots blood into the family!