A working list of things I conveniently forgot to tell you…for your own sake.
- I put mayonnaise in the pancake batter. A squeeze of Sriracha hot sauce too. Sort of by accident, sort of as an experiment. Sort of to prove a point. I poured in some sweetened condensed milk to compliment the kick. Whipped it up so fast so you wouldn’t know the difference. You ate four helpings. I didn’t bother telling you what was in it because we both know how dramatic you are.
- I signed us up for the tap dancing club. Just to prove that you can enjoy something you’re awful at. You can’t be the best at everything!
- At your last sleepover, I snuck your little brother a cupcake as a peace offering. I told him it was from you. I know you’d rather be tortured before surrendering to such a wicked force, but I’m so done being caught in the middle of your perpetual sibling war.
- I stole your stash of university rejection letters from under your bed. I ripped them into tiny pieces and then flushed them down the toilet because I couldn’t allow you to continue measuring your self-worth by them. That uppity, bowtie-wearing, coffee-sipping, admissions committee wouldn’t know how to identify a superstar if it landed right on their desk— no reason to dwell on the failures of others, my good friend.
- Remember when you bought that orange sweater with the floral sleeve cuffs? That obnoxious sweater that you were so thrilled about that you slipped it on before the sales associate could even slip it into the bag? You asked me if it was too loud to wear out in public and I told you ‘not at all’. Yeah, I lied. It was louder than loud. The only thing louder than your sweater that day was your confidence. And that was definitely worth the double takes.