The bah-humbug sister

Here is a transcription of a recent conversation with my sister:

Mel: Jess, I know what I want for Christmas!

Me: Oh! What?

Mel: A curling iron.

Me: (longish pause) . . . no you don't.

Mel: (more insistent) Yes, yes I do!

Me: No, you don't. You have straight hair. The straightest hair of anyone on the planet. You just have to accept this.

Mel: Duh, Jess, that's why I want a curling iron. (slightly offended in tone)

Me: Okay... what size curling iron? (trying to play along)

Mel: The smallest size.

Me: (cutting in immediately) No, no. (the playing along now over) That's just not going to work. How about I get you a gift card to a great salon and they can make you have curly hair for 1 day. It will probably last a couple of hours before it falls out, which will be more curly-hair time than all of the minutes put together that you could get out of a curling iron on your own.

Mel: That's stupid.

Me: You have beautiful hair! Gorgeous straight red hair!

Mel: My hair isn't red. Have you looked at me lately?

Me: It's kind of red...

Mel: No. It's not. (big sigh) Fine. Get me a wig then.