my auntie exclaimed as she came in from the cold Saturday night around 1:30am.
"Wrong sisterrrrr" - I groggily replied as I flipped the light switch in the kitchen revealing it was me with my new "do" and not the birthday girl.
I recently colored my curly blonde locks brown, and it's thrown a number of unsuspecting friends, colleagues and loved ones for a loop.
This particular exchange Saturday night in Newton, however, was hillarious.
Because my aunt, who hadn't seen or heard yet that I'd gone brunette, got quite a kick out of the "transformation", and really believed there for a minute in the half-lit first floor of my parents' home on Elsworth that I was my sorellina who turned 19 this past weekend.
I was in town to be one of my bambina sorella's biggest fans, as she had a solo in her Jubilee Singers concert at the super-sized NNHS. And I was awoken after having gone to sleep post SNL by the sound of my aunt at the door - hoping that I might be heading downstairs to bust my little sister coming in under the influence. Alas, she's still a goody goody, and it was my aunt stopping by as a result of a miscommunication amongst the aunties - she thought her sons were still hanging out with our other cousins at our house when they'd been driven back to NH hours earlier by my other aunt.
I told my aunt I'd take the confusion as a compliment naturally.
As, dang, if I can still pass for 19 as I make my way toward my prime this Fall, I'm not going to complain.
I had to ask her though - was it the frizzy from bed-head brown curls, the zitcream covering my pesky 20something acne, my fleece pajama bottoms, or my geeky glasses that had her seeing me for a mere teen??