So, this was part of an actual conversation I had with my sister:
Me: So how wacky am I allowed to get at your birthday party?
Liz: . . . wacky?
Me: Yeah, how much am I allowed to stand out? Can I dress in full Victorian Goth with my skirts and mini-top hat?
Me: Would you rather I look a little more normal?
Liz: No. All my friends already think you’re creepy or awesome. Faery wings.
Me: Which of your friends have I managed to creep out?
Me: Mallory’s older sister?
Liz: Yeah. And she still thinks you’re awesome for making Chase almost piss herself. She doesn’t like her sister.
Me: You’ve mentioned that. You do realize that I’ve worn faery wings to your birthday parties before, right?
Liz: Yeah, but I was younger then. (FYI: that was six years ago, and a Tinkerbelle-themed-party)
Me: You do realize that pulling off faery wings requires a lot of work and a specific look?
Me: *gasps* You know what faery wings means? GLITTER! I get to wear glitter!
Liz: Yep. And your faery skirt, too.
Me: Well, I’ll have to see. I don’t know if it’ll be warm enough for that.
. . . you would never know from ^that^ exchange that I’m older than her by 11 years.
I think this goes without saying, but as we live in a world of rampant asshattery, please allow me to state for the record: this is my intellectual property. As such, please do not copy, circulate, edit, alter, take credit for, or otherwise appropriate this material without my express permission. Thank you.