You: You know, I really don’t think you should go out in that skirt. It’s ugly.
Me: If you don’t like what I am wearing, you are free to stay here while I go.
You: Wow, maybe you should get your meds checked.
You: I think I’ve figured out why they think you are bipolar.
Me: (waiting in deep anticipation, really) Oh?
You: It’s because all your friends are crazy.
You: I’m not going to tell you to quit taking those medications . . .
Me: Good, because I need them.
You: I just think you should heal that hole in your soul instead.