The Hairy Month

Today is a big day to be in grade 12. It is time to put my razor down and let mother nature take part in my appearance. It is the first morning November. Where I make a statement with my mustache saying "hey you little ninth graders! Look at what you can't grow!". It is  time where my baby face  gets a chance to prove that I've been trying to compete since the beaning of summer, waiting for this month. Sure you can't really see the blonde  mustache, but when the sun gleams on my upper lip at a certain angle, I and hopefully my peers can see the outline of maturity. Within days, the facial grows and the faces change. Though those beards, covering the bottom half of my friends faces, I can still see the faces I grew up with. But I remain proud with my hairless cheeks and chin. As well as the girls part taking in this even, unfortunately mating season nor being social to the opposite sex in not in November. But mustaches are more important than the hairy-legged females. This is the one month that teachers are afraid to compete with against the grade twelves. I personally can't compete into the teachers level but I'm still in the lead for hairiest legs between me and the faculty. Although I place myself between the female teachers and I. Mrs. Bevington is hard to compete against but I win with the gold medal. On the sidelines,  I can see that the teachers have no match against the hairy graduates of 2011. We are the more dominant in the school for the whole month. Other grades fear our rational facial hair. I, however, can proudly say we own this school. Not the large amounts of young and hairless Juniors. I and my fellow graduates also respect the competition the teachers try to bring to their defeat and I hope their respect is mutual. It took me eighteen years to grow the blonde facial hair I am proud to grow. But it also took me eighteen years to become mature and independent, ready for the world in front of me. All of this is shown through the hairs of my upper lip.