Wordy Wednesday #92: Stiff Upper Lip

He is half-British, after all, this man-child of mine, so referring to a "stiff upper lip" is certainly within the realm of maternal privilege.

A couple of days ago, he turned and the light fell on his face in such a way that it looked like he had a freakin' moustache. I'm sure his ego was way stoked when his mother started fussing over him, telling him she had to grab a camera and get a decent shot of the hair coming in. "You're gonna post it on the blog, aren't you? 'Eldest grows a moustache,' you're gonna say, aren't you?"

Yup.

And, in other news, how about some 360° updates?

9°: I volunteered to sell tickets to Daughter's dance recital Saturday night. The show was sold out in advance -- can I pick the volunteer jobs to do or what -- but everyone had been encouraged to sell back tickets they didn't need. When people came up to say they had an extra ticket, I persuaded each and every one of them to "donate" it rather than get their paltry three bucks back. Why is that a good thing? One dollar of every ticket sold went to the charity Little Wishes.

10°: Counting money at church on Monday, I let my partner-in-crime ramble on and on about this, that and the other without pointing out, "Dude, you were 15 minutes late, and I have to be across town for an appointment at the time we normally finish." On the downside, I did scream at him a lot. But only in my head.