They were in their original box, thephoto on the front horrifically dated with what looked like a family outof the nineteen eighties settling down for...a lovely afternoon of haircutting. I took the entire box out and carried it upstairs. I neededbetter light if I was going to do this properly.I didn?t question myself as I proceeded to the first floor. My mind wasfixed on what I intended to do and the momentum of that carried meforward.I went into the bedroom and emptied the box onto the. "How 'bout I wash and you dry?" "Fine," I allowed. Hopping up on the counter, Ian handed me a towel and got to work. By the time we were done washing and drying dishes Ian turned the stereo up, still blaring Panic At The Disco, and I went to swap my jeans in for my favorite pair of girl joe-boxer shorts then came back and reclaimed my spot on the counter.Ian had changed as well; traded in his work uniform for a black beader and a matching pair of Dickies pants that he let sag a bit below his. More

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