While one half of my household is focusing on whether to write a novel for this year’s NaNoWritMo, the other half is considering growing a moustache for Movember, an annual charity event. Guess who’s doing what?
“I think I like the handlebar.”
“It'll be like kissing my dad."
“What about the Fu Manchu?”
“You’re going to need longer than a month, oh wise one.”
“The chevron is kind of manly.”
“On Tom Selleck.”
The truth is I don’t want him to grow a moustache. I want to be able to slide my cheeks along his face without hitting patches of turf. And while a moustache does work on some people, Tom is a good example, my husband’s got a baby face. Last November he looked like Gabe from Welcome Back Kotter.
After perusing the American Moustache Institute’s website we came up with a compromise, the pencil moustache. I’m hoping he looks like Clark Gable. He’s hoping to look like Zorro. No matter. It’s pretty small. He’ll be proud that he manage to grow something and I’ll be happy that it’s small enough I just might not see it.