Edgar is bald- balding, really- he's at that stage of unseemly baldness where the few hairs remaining on his b*****d head make him look utterly ridiculous. Still, Edgar manages to crawl out from his bed every morning- on the far end of the room- to stand himself in front of a cracked oblong mirror, which happens to be scaled even taller than his scrawny figure. He can cook well enough, though he always forgets to trim the edges off sandwiches. Edgar can't imagine living without his darling wife, who conversely can't imagine how she could get stuck with such a putz. When Edgar leaves for work, where he spends most of his worthless time, groveling for raises as he well should, he always blows her a kiss- which she immediately throws away. Although he practically enslaves himself, he still doesn't quite make the cut, does he? Anyway, I think you've got the basic idea about my husband.