Barry had grown his hair, it was down to his shoulders. His mother took him to get less than a half inch cut with a bit of style. His hair was nothing much different from how he walked in, just a touch more cool.
On the way home they spoke easily.
His mother realised that when a kid has confidence, when he has nothing to prove, he is easy to deal with.
She wondered if there was anything she could have done in Uglytown which would have given him confidence. But when one lives in a Uglytown where from diapers to diploma it is the same faces, one can’t change. Whatever label was slapped on at the age of 6 remains until 60.