Astonished at your own foresight to hang it up and keep it neat, you walk over and start to put it on. For some reason, everything seems to fit looser than usual even though the trousers are noticibly shorter, stopping just above the sock line.
"No matter, its not as if anyone looks at my feet anyway"
Leaving the room, the walls appear to be almost purple instead of the bright blue they'd been ever since you moved in 6 years ago. Passing the mirror in the hallway you fail to notice that your hair, especially the fringe had gotten a touch longer. However, this didn't get past your ever vigilant mom who, as you walked into the kitchen, said "You need a good haircut young man, you're starting to look like a scruff"
"Listen to your mother, boy" comes floating in from your dad in the other room checking the headlines on tv.
"I've got you an appointment at the hairdressers in village in a week next Monday" says your mom
"Yeah, OK" you reply, "Wait a minute, why can't I just go to the barber's like normal?" you ask to no avail she'd already gone.
Shaking the thought of having a haircut, you set about having breakfast, now what to have?...
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