Before she left, Aunt Georgia gave us a packet of mustaches. "For your next wig night." she said, and flung them onto the counter by the window. In honor of the holiday spirit, we donned our wigs, hats, and staches. Yet again, it proved impossible to wipe the smirks off of our faces. Ellen in particular never once stopped smiling.
Dad, however, managed to stay in character for the entirety of the evening, no matter what I put on his head.
You have to wonder about some folks don't ya. Or you could join 'em.
Thanks for the staches Georgie! I hope we did you proud.
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