Junior got up the next morning at exactly 6:00. Accordingly he brushed his teeth, took a shower, washed his face, then…
He walked over to his closet and pulled out his dreaded school uniform or the “Uniform of Extreme Displeasure” as he called it. Every morning for the last few weeks it’s been the same routine, up until this part. In recent days his school uniform has been less than cooperative when he tried to wear it. Some days the pants wouldn’t button, or the shirt was too tight; either way his uniform was getting to small.
He was too embarrassed to admit to his mother that he had put on recent weight, even thought she to have seemed to be packing on the pounds herself. A fat, geeky kid was the last thing Junior wanted to be.
A routine tug of war match erupted in Junior's hands as he tugged up the seat and the sides of his pants, paining just to raise them up to his waist. The fly was near impossible to zipper more than half way, and at this point buttoning it up fully was also unthinkable. As a matter of fact any conventional means of buttoning his pants had been lost a few days earlier after the family went out to a buffet three nights in a row.
Junior could still see the faint stretch marks just under his belly button and his sides. Junior wasn't nearly as outgoing in the real world as he was when trying to keep his pants fastened however, so even when he met great impossibilities he fought on regardless.
With his back planted on his back and his crotch in the air he tugged on the stubborn zipper till a deep imprint of the devil-made metal was visible in the red palm of his hand.
His small brown eyes were about to thrust from his head and it seemed like he would start convulsing any second at the rate he was going. Luckily he didn't enter a stroke, but unlucky his useless pants remained unbuttoned, unzipped, and unusable. "Honey breakfast in five!" His mother called from the kitchen.
Junior felt a thin fabric break from the button, leaving the button suspended by only three strings. He wasn't surprised though, he hadn't grow in three years and as a result of that he had worn these pants for quite a while and this button been sown on at least more times than a spider has legs.
His fruitless fight was coming to an end and with sweaty hands, a stubborn belly and blood red cheeks he fought on for one last tug.
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