I mustache you a favor...

During a recent San Diego visit, I decided to mess with my nieces and nephew while Mark was outside unloading the car.

"Hey, guys, come here!" I whispered, motioning for them to come over. They reluctantly left the T.V.

"Yeah?" they asked, all at once.

"Um..." I paused, awkwardly. "So...you know how when you get older, your body changes?"

They all looked at me, horrified. The last thing they wanted to talk about was changing bodies!

Undaunted, I charged on.

"Well, Mark's getting a little...hairier," I said. "He's growing a little mustache, and he's really self-conscious about it."

They all exhaled with relief. In the realm of body changes, mustaches were safe to discuss.

"We won't tease him," Nathalie assured me.

"Gross!" Gabi shrieked.

"Mark has a MUSTACHE???" Grant gasped.

I put my fingers to my lips. "Shhhh," I told them. "Don't say anything or you'll embarrass him! Don't make him cry!"

They all agreed. A moment later, Mark slammed the car door outside, and the kids darted back into the living room.

Mark entered the house, and the kids very politely got up to say hello. They were so sweet, trying their very hardest to be nonchalant and polite, and not hurt poor, sensitive Mark's feelings.

But when they saw Mark, they totally disregarded everything I'd just said and laughed right in his face.

"What?" Mark asked, twirling the ends of the disgusting candy mustache he'd worn the whole drive down. "Do you like my mustache?"

The kids just laughed again, smacked me on the arm, and yelled, "You're so stupid!"

And all I could do was laugh with them.

They grow up so fast

Last night was Mark's end-of-the-season soccer pizza party. It was pretty much the same as any other pizza party -- kids hopped up on caffeine, begging for quarters and sprinting frantically from video game to video game.

This particular joint also had a pool table in the middle of the room, so there was the added bonus that at some point during the evening, you were probably gonna get smacked by a 9-year-old brandishing a pool cue.

But the best machine wasn't even electronic. It was one of those grocery store type deals, where you put in a couple quarters, turn the knob, and out pops a cheap little prize in a plastic bubble. The prizes for this particular machine were stick-on mustaches.

The boys LOVED that! Within minutes, the entire soccer team was sporting mustaches. I couldn't stop laughing at how silly they looked. They all walked up to collect their trophies, and stood very seriously while the coach said something nice about them -- the whole time wearing their new facial hair. It was even funnier because by some strange coincidence, the boys all ended up with mustaches that perfectly matched their sandy-brown hair -- so they looked even more realistic!

Even Mark managed to get one fairly close to his hair color. His was a little shorter than the other kids, and looked more like a fuzzy black caterpillar. I was worried he might look a little like Hitler when he put his on, but was relieved to see that was not the case.

Here he is showing off his soccer trophy (yay, B.P. Bombers! First place in their division!):




And here's a close-up:



We had to make a quick stop at the grocery store on our way home. Mark stopped more than a few people in their tracks -- one guy even commented that he was a little young for facial hair.

"He's actually a lot older than he looks," I replied, and Mark and I giggled.

Mark then stuck the mustache to his forehead, connecting his eyebrows. "Unibrow!" he yelled, and suddenly, we got much stranger looks from the other shoppers.

Ahhh...seems like just yesterday my little Mark was a clean-shaven, boyish 9-year-old.