Mrs Morgan by contrast was lovely, a tanned gym bunny who seemed to spend her life pottering around their house in tracksuit bottoms and tight t-shirt..., much to my delight. One day I popped over to borrow one of John’s videos. John and his dad were was out, but Mrs Morgan was her usual happy bouncy self. “Come in, I think it’s in the VCR already” she said and turned on the television. The screen burst into life and there, in glorious technicolour, was Mrs Morgan, slurping away on an absolute. "If we're going to do this Hannah Montanathing, you need a wig like her." Oh," I replied, and started looking around the store."What about something like this?" my mom asked a few minutes later. Ihadn't really found anything that seemed right."Are you serious?" I asked her incredulously. She was holding up a long,blonde wig. It was straight and had some darker highlights. It waspretty much a Hannah Montana wig! "Have you ever seen the show?"Mom grinned, letting me know that she knew what she. More

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