Growing up, my grandfather lived with us. He had a skull on top of his bookshelf. It stared out of his bedroom with its skull-eyes, watching over me for year after year as I grew from a human baby into a twenty-year-old boy-man.
My grandfather said it belonged to -- but was not the actual head of -- his great-grandfather, who was a dentist. Dentists back then would practice on real human skulls. This dude's jaw is held together by packing tape and string, so I hope for his sake he was dead before his face became a dental crash test dummy.
It was definitely a little creepy to have around when I was younger, but I eventually got used to the sight of the skull. Its murderous screams are another story. I'm just glad it's still out there somewhere.
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