"What?" Jedi-raised or not, if there's any surefire way to offend a teenager, it's to tell them that they're getting shorter. "That's not possible!" Never mind that the evidence is literally right in his face. "People don't shrink unless they're old!"

Or, you know, unless they lose body parts. But all of Ezra's limbs are still firmly attached, so that's clearly not the case.

Huffing, Ezra turns and presses up close enough to Qui-Gon's chest so that he can get his own second measurement. Personal space really doesn't mean much between them, not after all these years. Then he holds his hand to the top of his head so that the edge can mark where he stands. Steps back, looks up.

And it's definitely short by some inches from where it's supposed to be. Ezra's brow furrows in baffled frustration. "I don't understand!"