I Dyed

I sat, unmoving, at the table with the kitchen over head light shining in my face. My parents took their respective places, one directly in front of me, and one just to the left.
The only thing sweating more than I was the glass of ice water that had been pushed in my direction several minutes earlier. I grabbed hold of the glass and took a slow, deliberate sip. I crunched an ice cube in my mouth, and closed my eyes as it's remains melted away on my tongue. When I opened my eyes I looked directly into the eyes of my mother, signifying that I was ready.
"Megan." she said, "I'm not really sure if we even need to ask you this, but were you the one who dyed the dog purple?"
"No," I told her, "I was the one who dyed the dog 'Egyptian Plum'."
My father offered up a smirk, and my mom shot daggers at him with a well timed glance.
"And why, might I ask, did you dye the dog 'Egyptian Plum'?"
"I had leftovers, and didn't want them to go to waste." I said, with a shrug.
"Look at the dog, Megan. He is purple. Do you think that is funny?" She asked me.
I looked over, to where our formerly blonde Cocker Spaniel lay licking his paws, and tried not to laugh.
"Do you really want me to answer that?"
"Why would you put the dog through something like that?" She questioned.
"He sat still the whole time. He really didn't seem to mind at all. It's his own fault, he should have put up more of a fight. He wanted it."
"Only a clear 'yes' is consent, Megan." She said with a frown, "What are the neighbors going to think?"
"Probably that he is just going through a phase. He's expressing himself by altering his outwards appearance so that it matches what he is feeling on the inside."
"You are such a smart ass." She said flatly.
I could get away with just about anything at sixteen. Seventeen too. I often sit and wonder if I could pull some of the same stunts I did then, and still manage to avoid jail time now.