The result of a three-in-the-morning inspiration, aided and abetted no doubt by various prescription meds. I simply could not resist, as he was crying out for an apron. I think he wants to do the dishes, and I'm not going to stop him (hey, I'd sell my soul for less some days).
I put the pocket on his left since I figured he'd be left handed. I mean, come on--between dexter and sinister, which is Satan going to choose? And at any rate due to stuffing irregularities on the part of his Maker (myself) it does appear that his biceps are considerably beefier on that side.
Yep; still cracking me up.