Manic Moustache
>> Monday, November 17, 2008
Baby Boy is ten. While being ten doesn't make him a baby, he was my first born; therefore he will always be a baby to me.
We have a weird nightly ritual. After B. Boy has brushed his teeth and is ready for bed, he has me check his underarms for hair. I haven't seen any, but I know one day I will go to look and there they will be. I am still calling him Baby Boy regardless.
He has become fascinated with body hair lately, and it's starting to worry me. He wants a moustache and asked me to wax his upper lip so the hair would grow in faster. He thinks if he has a moustache he can make it into the Guinness Book of World Records.
I am pretty sure there are younger kids with moustaches out there running around. I doubted any of the other fifth graders at his school would be impressed.
While he is very eager for a lip full of fur, it's not quite growing in as planned. He's starting to vaguely resemble Adolf Hitler, and I am afraid that the school is already talking. I noticed some kids pointing when I picked him up the other day. That can't be a good sign.
Tonight while B. Boy is asleep... I'm shaving it off.
~NM