This is probably the worst conversation I had with my mom, without the scolding.

Mom: Your fringe is very long.
Me: Yeah, I know.
Mom: Okay, I will bring you to cut it when we come back from Perth. Or maybe we can cut it in some place in Perth.
Me: Okay. I don't want any funny cutting okay.
Mom: Then I shall ask them to cut short hair for you, okay?
Me: NO. NONONONONO.
Mom: But I miss how you looked like with short hair. So too bad, I decide.
Me: But its my hair!
Mom: But its my money.

Ohmygosh.
I don't want to have short hair.
I'll look weird.
And I don't need to be, in any way, weirder than I already am.