Turning A Chore Into A Chore

(One lazy Saturday, I decide to tackle some chores. I head downstairs that morning and work on the mountain of dishes. I take a break in the living room, and my mom appears.)

Mom: “Who did the dishes?”

Me: *smiling* “I did.”

Mom: “Oh… It’s nice that you did them, but you left two pots. How come you never finish a chore?”

Me: *not smiling anymore* “…Er, I AM going to finish, but pots are harder to clean, and someone burned something, so I was soaking them to do later.”

Mom: *offended* “Well! I’m sooo sorry that I burned my oatmeal this morning! I guess you’re punishing me for that even though I cook for you!”

(Despite my protests, she started washing the pots right then and there, complaining how I should just listen and do as she says without talking back. I leave the room in an angry huff, but I cool down later in the afternoon and decide to vacuum the downstairs. This time, my dad appears.)

Dad: *looking at me in disapproval* “Uh…”

Me: *turning off the vacuum* “What’s the problem?”

Dad: “Can’t you do something else like put stuff away? There’s clutter all over the counters.”

Me: *flabbergasted* “Are you serious?!”

(I then received a lecture for not helping out around the house in the “right” way. Meanwhile, my brother spent the whole day playing video games upstairs. If only I had decided to do nothing that day like him.)