I've been skipping dinners a couple of times the past week. But for a moment this morning, I thought those dinner skips had shrunk me into aneroxic proportions overnight. Pulling on the khaki pants towards the waist, I was confounded to see several inches of waistline that's yet to be filled in, only to realize that those pants were my Dad's which I mistakenly grabbed out of the laundry (they look the same) when I went back home to Kajang over the weekend. Anyways, two possible implications here: 1. My Dad's wardrobe is becoming more "youthful" by the day (especially since he turned a year older a couple of days back). Or 2. I'm becoming like my Dad in terms of choice of clothes. Either way, I reckon it's still better than wearing something that can get you being mistaken for a waiter at a warong.