It’s Mustache March. For those of you who’ve never heard of Mustache March, it’s a month of macho madness where grown men in the United States Air Force (I’m not sure if they do this in the other military branches) compete to see who can grow the best mustache. It’s super fun. I love my husband but I definitely do not love Mustache March. I believe Brie even once called Peter’s mustache a hairy caterpillar on his top lip.
But the interesting thing about this whole mustache fiasco (because that’s really what it is – a fiasco) is the way the guys carry themselves when they’re growing mustaches. Normal, intelligent, successful men become adolescents, competing to see who can grow the fullest mustache, thus indicating who is the manliest among the group. And they give each other weird compliments. For instance, one day Peter came home from work, and he was so proud because one of his coworkers had called his mustache “Zorro-esque.” Really? First of all, it’s creepy that a man would compliment another man in that way. And secondly, it’s not Zorro-esque. Trust me. It’s more like Hitler-esque. (Although my dear sweet husband is sure he looks more like Tom Selleck than Hitler.) (Um, by the way, no one wears a mustache like Tom Selleck.)
There is one thing I like about Mustache March, though – it makes Peter ridiculously happy. He loves growing a mustache, probably because he knows how much it irritates me. It makes him feel macho, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. (wink wink) In the grand scheme of things, I think I can live with Peter’s mustache for one measly month a year. It’s such a little thing and it makes him happy.
There are lots of little things that make us happy. For Brienne, it’s curling up with a good book, or watching a movie while chowing down on popcorn. For Jonah, it’s driving down the road and seeing a fire truck or “kink pows” (that means “pink flowers” for those of you who don’t speak Jonah-ese). One day he and I were standing at the deli counter of Winn Dixie and he noticed the rotisserie chicken cooking. He was in awe! I think we stood there and watched those chickens rotate for a good five minutes and we probably could’ve stayed longer. I was fascinated that he was fascinated! See? It’s the little things that make us happy and keep us entertained.
I know in the busyness of life, I’m guilty of not taking time for the little things. (I’m pretty sure in my 37 years on this earth, I’ve never stopped to watch chicken cooking in a grocery store.) I’m usually in such a hurry that I barely see the people around me (much less a roasting, rotating bird). We have been blessed in so many ways, and I want to be more aware of those blessings. I don’t want to miss anything that the Lord has given me. I want to take the time to enjoy the creamy goodness of a milkshake with Brienne or watch the birds fly from tree to tree with Jonah. I want to watch the wonder in Vivienne’s eyes as she sees bubbles for the first time.
And I want to see the faces of the people around me, even if they’re wearing a mustache.