Michael has had enough of the mustache challenge.

He found the mustache obnoxious, itchy, and prone to food entrapment. To say nothing of enduring the comments from the female peanut gallery here at home. When you are surrounded by 5 opinionated sisters, things can get rough.

This week, we received our son’s official drill portrait via email. Makes me want to jump up and sing the National Anthem. Off-key and properly social distanced, of course.

Michael loves being part of his school’s Army JrROTC precision drill team. These boys practice throughout the year, most of them waking before 6:00am and arriving by 6:30am. They drill in the morning before school and, during competition season, for 8 hours on Saturday and 4 hours on Sunday. They are really, really good. In fact, they are one of the top teams in the nation.

Greta was downstairs studying during one of Michael’s Zoom classes last week. It was French class. She filed the following field report.

*In Michael’s defense, he was not required to participate in this particular session. But, apparently, he was still required to attend. I’m not sure why.

I had intended to update on Michael’s mustache progress every week. But he’s needed a couple extra days.

The building consensus among his sisters is to end the experiment. The words “creepy” and “gross” have been added to the mustache lexicon. Not sure how long he will hold out.