You know what's possibly the cutest thing ever?

This bottom in skinny pants.

Especially when they're saggy.

(as they're apt to be when you have a 2 year old who weighs 23 lbs. and is in panties)

Musheireb Mustache Day

A couple of weeks ago, my not-so-fashion-minded husband came up with the brilliant idea of having everyone in his little area of the cubicle world sport a mustache for a day.  They would spend the next week boycotting all shaving and would then shave a 'stache on the appointed day.  It would be called Musheirab Mustache Day and is a date which will live in infamy...at least in my book anyway.

As some of y'all know, I love facial hair on a guy.  There's something about it that just looks so masculine to me.   I find it particularly flattering on Spencer as it defines his jaw and makes him look somewhere around his actual age versus his clean-cheeked 19 year old alter-ego. Mustaches...however...not so much (unless, of course, you happen to be tom selleck, my father, or my father-in-law).

Ahhh, Tommy Boy.  One of the extremely rare manly-men who can pull off a 'stache with flying colors

It's not that I have anything against mustaches in general, per se, I just don't like them on many people, especially not my husband.  Let's put it this way...if a mustached-version of Spencer was wearing sweatpants, a gray zip-up jacket, and hanging around a elementary school or park, I wouldn't be the least surprised if a monitor asked him to move along.

Regardless, February, Friday the 18th or Musheirab Mustache Day came and went, all mustachioed up, whether I wanted it to or not.

Here's the proof:

A whole flock of mustachioed engineers

(promise they all have them, even if you can't see them in this picture)

The 'stached man himself

(note that this was a day or two later when a tiny bit of his goatee had begun to grow back, thank heavens)

I'm happy to report that nearly a week later, we're almost back to goatee-worthy facial hair, praises be.  I'm sure Spencer is a little relieved himself since he hasn't been seeing much action since :P

Spencer wanted to me put up a poll asking if people liked his short-lived mustache.  I'm going to assume my readers have better taste then that.  If you don't, however, feel free to let us know in the comments ;)

happy thoughts

Want to know how you've found a keeper?

He leaves you the leftover Valentine's cordon bleu for lunch and takes the cream o' casserole for himself. *shudder*
(I suspect Spencer thinks I'd die of malnutrition from living on cereal all day if it wasn't for his covert efforts to keep me fed)

I love you, my dearest.

This is for Georgie who has woken up and told me she's dreamed about being at the beach two mornings out of the last three.

In honor of a red-headed Spitfire and our Birthday party for Brother Neil.

Goodness, it's been a while, hasn't it?  In my defense, I've been helping my sister move up to snowy north-west Indiana since January 31st, utterly internet-less all the while.  As all we did up there was sit around sans furniture waiting for the blizzard to abate and then unpacking when the moving truck finally arrived, I have no pictures to show as proof.  You'll just have to take my word on it.

Anyway...I'm sure most of you have seen this commercial by now, especially if you're the super bowl-watching type, but for those of you who know my Applegate nephews, I request that you re-watch this commercial all the while thinking of them.  It has Gavin, in particular, written all over it.  So much so, that I now refer to it as the Gavin Commercial (creative, I know).  Even if you don't know my 3 favorite scrawny red-headed spitfires, it's still worth a watch.

(for any red-headed Humphrey-ites who might be offended, note the word "scrawny" in the previous statement ;)



In other news, here's a few token pictures of my kids celebrating Neil Diamond's 70th birthday on January 24th.  We had more fun then Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show.  What? You don't have a Neil Diamond Birthday Party, you say?  Well, in my book, everyone whose anyone has one.  Just so you know.

The absolutely necessary dance party.  We were rockin' Brother Neil tunes, but of course.

 

 It took Scarlett a while to get into things since she was in a foul mood, but even she couldn't resist a good booty-shakin' to Cherry Cherry.

  Gotta love those Neil-worthy shades.  Now all he needs is an open-neck shirt and some chest hair and he'll be all set.

Every true dance party calls for a Princess dress, you know.

 No birthday party is complete without cake.  We almost always opt to go the cupcake route since frosting is half the fun (the clean-up, however, negates that half in my book :P).

(sidenote: mini-cupcakes are my new favorite thing.  It's all the giving into temptation without having to deal with the whole cupcake...so, you can feel free to have one, two, or errr five.)

I swear I have like 50 of these exact same pictures.  All I have to do is change the shirt out and you wouldn't be able to tell the difference.  Like I've mentioned in previous posts, Ezra takes his decorating very, very seriously (as he does most things, really, I suppose).

The usual.

(My apologies as these next two pictures are sideways.  Blogger is not my friend tonight.)

Scarli didn't have much interest in frosting.  Table dancing was, however, another matter entirely.

The goods.

Take it or leave it, folks, but this is all you're getting.  Hopefully any upcoming posts are more interesting and/or witty.  I'm just not feelin' it tonight.

PS-Just curious...but what's your favorite Neil Diamond song (if you're cool enough to have one, that is)?  Mine is Cherry Cherry, for the record.