"Harry? What is this?"
I peered into the bag. "Oh, that's my hair."
"I noticed. Why is it in there? And why has the rest been cut by a blind toddler?"
I rolled my eyes. "Like I'm going to leave it lying in the barber store for anyone to come across. And they can't give it back for health reasons or something." I scowled. "And I used a mirror."
Thomas made an impatient sound. Then he gestured impatiently to a chair, picking up some scissors.
Realizing it was useless to protest, I sighed. "At least let me burn the hair."