He looked down at himself like nothing was wrong.
« Clothes. »
« Don’t do that. »
« Do what? »
« Act like this is normal. »
My dad was standing in the middle of my college parking lot wearing ripped jeans, a faded T-shirt with a dark stain near the hem, and an old brown jacket I hadn’t seen him wear in years.
My mom looked even worse.
Her hair was messy. Her sweatshirt had holes near the cuffs.