[Update: I’ve added the Mustaches for Kids Documentary (at the bottom). It’s under three minutes, and YES that’s Roan in the beginning. Checkitout!]
On occasion, Anson and I will ditch Roan and actually get out of the apartment after the sun goes down. Last night, with Roan safely at my sisters house for a sleepover, we got all dressed up and went to The ‘Stache Bash, a final celebration and competition for The Sweetest ‘Stache grown by participants in Mustaches for Kids. Let me just preface the experience with a few things.
First, there was an open bar.
Second, I have never been in a room where every man had a mustache. While it was amusing, it was also mildly disconcerting. A mustache has several stereotypes attached to it, and though I knew most of these guys were not regular growers of mustaches, when you meet someone for the first time and they have a mustache, well it just is part of your first impression. Also, when a person has a mustache, doesn’t wear pants and has a big Tuna tattooed on his thigh, that also makes a certain impression. It was total sensory overload.
Anson reading his Haiku. My part in a Documentary,
honoring my Husband.
I was amazed at how Anson fell into his mustache character and stuck with it all night. He was appropriately smarmy and tipsy and raucous, and made about fifteen new best friends whose names he has no idea of. The men competed for the honor of being the ‘Stache King in categories including Best Haiku, Kissing, and Lifting Things with A Mustache. Sadly, Anson was cut after two rounds but he still had much love for his homies and even went so far as to stand-in on the kissing contest when a guy’s wife was absent, and he didn’t think it was appropriate to kiss some random girl. The guy was dressed as Nick Cage’s character from Raising Arizona, and kissed my husband with control-top pantyhose pulled over his head, but still. That is some camaraderie right there. I was more than a little proud.
We stayed until the party was over; we got home by 1 AM. I cannot believe how late it felt and how quickly I fell into bed but trust that these were my last words before checking out:
He did, and this morning I woke up to see my Anson again, with his normal face and smile and I kissed him for the first time in about three weeks. I do not miss the ‘stache, but I guess I’ll possibly miss the easy Roan-Mom tag team back and forth at dinner where we make fun of it. Of course, there’s always the man-on-pantyhose kiss, but maybe I’ll wait until Roan’s at least six to bring that one to the table.