It's a sign...
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Mary keeps telling me that I'm starting to look like Wilford Brimley because my mustache is getting really wild. To which I reply, "If you have diabeetus, and you're on Medicare, your testing supplies may be covered"....
I seriously considered shaving it off last year because it's driving me nuts and interfering with eating and stuff, but Mary nixed that idea, because she's never seen me without it. She has to help me trim it, because my right hand is still balking and I can't use scissors with my left hand, and she's afraid that she'll cut off my nose.
Anyway...