I'm sick of this schick...

     (Last night while preparing for bed)

B:  "Momma, you make me so happy."

     (5 minutes later, while tucking kids into bed and kissing them goodnight)

L: "Momma, something is on your lip that keeps poking me...."

     (5 minutes later...)

I was standing in front of bathroom mirror, razor in hand.

Seriously.  I am sick of this schick.  Seriously sick of it.

I may just take my husband's lead, embrace the mustache and just start to handlebar it.

(I, obviously, taught myself how to add this mustache in photoshop elements in about 5 minutes using You Tube.  However, I, obviously, didn't learn how to keep it from being transparent.)