When I wake up this morning, I hear my father whistling in the bathroom.
The door is open so I go in.
He is standing in front of the mirror, combing his hair.
"Good morning, Bradley' he says. "Isn't this a beautiful day?"
I wish I had hair like my father's. It's long and dark and thick. My hair is short and light and stubby. It is only on my head.
I watch as he brushes his teeth. My father has outstanding teeth. They are big and pointy and white. The two on the sides some way down and over his bottom lip.