“did you style his hair like that?” i asked as i noticed that odin’s notoriously bald noggin wasn’t quite as spare of hair as it seemed only just yesterday.

“nope. it just wanted to do that all on its own and couldn’t bring myself to brush it down.” kris repied, somewhat unceremoniously, as i started to hum what i thought were long-forgotten lyrics from a musical that i probably shouldn’t ever admit in public to enjoying way “back in the day”:

“Gimme head with hair
Long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming,
Streaming, flaxen, waxen

Give me down to there hair
Shoulder length or longer
Here baby, there mama
Everywhere daddy daddy

Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair

Flow it, show it
Long as God can grow it
My hair”