He's got a mustache - now can he please get a job?

I LOOKED at my 10-year-old son about a week ago and something around his mouth looked almost . . . dirty.

"What have you been eating?" I asked, figuring that the shadow on his upper lip was the remnants of a meal.

"Nothing," he said.

"Then what's that on your face?"

He shrugged.

I moved in for a closer look. Turning his face slightly toward the light filtering in through the living room window, I saw it.

"Is that a mustache?" I asked in disbelief.

My wife, LaVeta, who was hovering nearby, came over for a gander.

"I think it is a mustache," she said.

There was an awkward moment of silence as I tried to decide what to do next. In my heart, though, I knew there was only one way to know for sure.

I took him to the place where we discover every preteen development that takes place in our lives. It is the place where pimples are popped, where underarm hair is discovered and where the terrors of puberty give rise to lifelong anxieties.

That's right. I took him to the bathroom.

As we stared at the mustache under the bright, unforgiving lights, my namesake smiled and looked on approvingly.

"It looks just like yours," he said.

It does indeed, and while I know I should be happy for my son, truth is, I'm jealous.

After all the time I've spent shaping and clipping the hairs between my nose and upper lip, this kid comes along with a ready-made mustache. He's never had to spend a small fortune on titanium razors. He's never had to wield barber scissors to clip wayward strands. He's never had to shave it off and start all over again.

He simply wakes up one day with what appears to be dirt on his face, and - voila! - he's got a perfectly trimmed mustache.

Maybe there's a way to make this pay off for him. In fact, maybe there's a way to make it pay off for all of us. With his new mustache, he could finally fulfill my most basic dream for him - he could get a job.

That's not to say he'd have to give up on the scientist gig he's always wanted. I totally support the boy discovering stuff to make the world a better place. But, since he's got a mustache, he might as well earn some money between now and his Nobel Prize.

With a mustache, he can get started on his science career using a hands-on, experience-based approach. For example, he could learn physics by becoming a part-time baggage handler, applying the irresistible force of his preteen muscles to the immovable object of that lady's 90-pound steamer trunk. Plus he'd receive great tips, including this one: Make sure you bring part of that paycheck home to your parents.

With a mustache, he could learn probability by joining the ranks of Philly's famed cab drivers. First question: What's the probability that a 10-year-old boy without a license is a better driver than the guys lined up at 30th Street Station? I'll take the boy at 2-to-1. And, as his father, I'll also take a portion of his paycheck to help pay his share of the mortgage.

If he's not into heaving bags or driving cabs, that's not a problem. His mustache gives him other science-based job options.

While all the immature kids waste time dissecting frogs, my son could learn biology while working part-time in a butcher shop. He'd get to see muscles, bones and ligaments up close, all while feeding the masses and bringing home premium cuts to make up for all the ribs, chicken and steak he's consumed on my dime.

Yep, his mustache is going to open up doors for him, and that's a good thing, because, if we play our cards right, that mustache might just help us pay a few bills along the way.