I was home (well, visiting my family in the house where I formerly lived) for less than 24 hours before I was accused of contributing to the delinquency of a minor by my mother. Yep, I am an evil, evil bad influence on my baby brother. I am the accomplice to a crime worthy of *gasp* a glare and the silent treatment. My brother, however, got the full force of her fury (well, not really, just a mild lecturing, actually). And it was all my fault (according to him).
And what is it that I did that was so wrong? I helped him color his hair. With henna. So that it's like, oh, maybe 2 shades darker than it was. I know. This is a big deal. Oh yeah. He had been told that our mother did not approve of him dying his hair. He had been told no when he asked before. "Yeah, but that was when I wanted to dye it like black, and pink, and stuff, this is brown." He should know better than to do something like this. Oooh. You should know better.
C'mon people. This is like, big time rebelling in our family. You gotta give the kid props for going as far as henna, it's semi-permanent.