Plumbing 101

624 Words2 Pages

Plumbing 101 “First come and unclog your drain” my older brother not so much suggested, as commanded, while fumbling himself onto the sofa of least proximity. “Im eating” I uttered repulsively. Each chomp clicked harder than the last as if to proportionally accompany my ascending frustration. A wave of irritation accelerated from my gut upward till it crashed into my prefrontal cortex. Really, my drain? Yeah, that whole kitchen sink belongs to me. Shouldn’t your lazy ass be doing the dishes anyways. It literally takes 2 seconds to dump the drain stopper. Why is he being such a little bitch? Did I not just spend the entirety of my afternoon frying rice, grilling chicken, and steaming veggies so that you don't have to deduct from your precious …show more content…

Supressing my state of discomposure and my urge to flip the countertop, I acted. I managed to wrestle off the uneasiness that initially clenched me. Blaming doesn’t unclog drains. Blaming doesn’t do dishes. Nor would it dispose of the garbage bag exceeding its capacity. Waiting for his aid was an unworthy effort, so I refrained from requesting it. Instead I relied on my behaviour to initiate the dialogue. I proceeded to dust the shelves, rearrange the discombobulated living room, rehydrate the flora, scrub the tub, then scamper over to Jewel Osco to refuel the fridge, so that I can get home and vacuum before it's too late and neighbors start banging brooms on their ceiling. Soon after, I logged into my parents’ Chase account to ensure the IRS highway tax payments are filed before the month expires and my fathers’ speeding ticket is atoned prior to his court date. As my Mother recently relocated herself across the Atlantic to assist my grandmother in her battle with cancer and my father wheels his truck throughout the country six days a week, I’m constantly pacing back and forth like a flight attendant as I’ve got lots of ground to cover back at …show more content…

Still, I dug through the mush of splattered peas, soggy rice, and some muck from unidentifiable sources, probably sitting there from three sundays ago. My decision to eliminate the residue in the drain extended much beyond restoring the flow of water through the sink. Moreover, It symbolized a transition. An evolution. At that point I realized I had woven myself into the fabrics of adulthood. I figured being an adult had meager regards for living past an eighteenth birthday and tons for claiming responsibility in adverse circumstances, ones which aren’t necessarily at the mercy of your faults. Being an adult meant treating every misfortune as an obligation, and then encouraging others to the

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