She was sitting on her bed reading the book from his bag when he came in. The room was dark, outside, clouds were busy gathering for an unforecasted thunderstorm. She sensed the humidity in the air and felt a cool breeze through her fringe. “We’re out of toilet paper.” He said at the door. She peaked at the chores list that was stuck on the refrigerator with a smiley magnet. “I’m not in charge of that.”
“Well, now you are. Get your *** moving.”
“I’m not doing it.“
“Okay then, we can just sit here and wait until someone does it.”
At 8 o’clock, she returned with the urgently needed toilet paper and a bag of Cheetos. After she came out of the bathroom with a towel on her head, the Cheetos has already vanished from on top of the kitchen table.
“Where are my Cheetos?” She demanded.
“I ate them.”
“I bought them.”
“It’s your duty. There’s nothing to brag about if you’re only doing your job.“
“It’s not my duty.”
“Oh it’s not? I thought it’s always your job to do the shopping.”
“Can’t you see there’s a f**king list on the refrigerator? And it says, ‘Daniel: groceries.’”
“Toilet paper is no grocery.”
“Do you need me to get you a dictionary?”
“I know what grocery means.”
“Then you should be the one out there getting toilet paper.”
“But you got it for me anyway.”
“Because I’m not the kind of cold-blooded idiot who’s gonna sit by!”
“But see, I don’t have to do anything. You’re already doing everything for me.”
“I see, you’re just using me.”
“I thought you figured that out a long time ago.”
“I’m no longer taking this. I’m leaving.”
“Ok, bye. Make sure to close the door.”
Before she slammed the door behind her, she had a sudden urge to throw the book onto his head, but stopped because it’s the kind of fancy hardcover stuff he never reads but bought just to look smart. It could give him a concussion. Or kill him. But who’s going to pay for her school fees? She stood outside the closed door and decided that she would go to Costco and buy enough toilet paper so she could, literally, bury him in it.