At The Dis-Appointed Time

(My cousin is getting married. The day before the wedding, she invites my sister and me to join the bridal party for manicures. The appointment is at 10 am, and we have both been up for several hours now. It’s a twelve minute drive, nothing complicated, and it is now 9:30 am.)

Me: *cheerfully* “Hey, you about ready to go?”

Sister: *angrily yelling* “When do you want to leave?!”

Me: “Uh, soon-ish? If you need a few minutes…”

Sister: “Why didn’t you tell me when we were leaving?!”

Me: “Uh, the appointment is at ten…”

Sister: “Well, I didn’t know when you wanted to leave! I’m still in my pajamas! You should have told me what time!”

(She then stomped and slammed her way into the bathroom. I really didn’t know what to say, but I guess it was too much to assume that she, an adult, would know to be ready to leave at least thirty minutes before the appointment time. In other news, we got there, had a blast, and my cousin is happily married.)