Goddammit, I'm mad. · 6:42am May 11th, 2018

Warning: Sibling-based drama incoming. Feel free to not read, I just need to rant.

So I live with my mom, for those who don't know. It's more affordable and less lonely. Of course, there are issues that come with that. Namely: I still have to live by my mom's rules. One of these rules is insanely arbitrary, but it's part of the price of living here.

You see, my mom is unfathomably anal about leaving dishes soaking in the sink. If they're left there for more than a few hours, they've been there too long. Of course, this means that there are always dishes that have been in the sink too long. She's so obsessed with this that she's made everyone living in her house have color-coded dishes, so she knows which dishes belong to who.

Though this is annoying, it comes with its perks. Namely, everyone else knows whose dishes are whose.

Why is this useful? Well, there's a pig in the house. By that, I don't mean a slob. By that, I mean there's one person responsible for the following two food-related house rules.

1) Any food meant for the entire household must be divided evenly between all residents before any of it is eaten.

2) If someone has food meant for themselves only, they must let the rest of the household know, either by physically telling them so, or by marking it in some way.

Before the colored dishes rule, marking your food meant literally writing your name on it. After the colored dishes, just putting it on one of your dishes was enough to mark it as yours.

So, now that the backstory has been dealt with, it's time for more backstory.

Last night, I noticed it was 7:30 and nobody had made dinner, despite three people being home. This usually means "fend for yourself", so I microwaved a couple frozen burritos. After finishing the first burrito, one of my brothers emerged from his cave and started cooking the burgers he'd gotten the previous night. Well, I love burgers, but I'd already eaten dinner. He made two burgers for each of us, so I wrapped mine in plastic and put it in the fridge on one of my plates. This effectively announced the the house, "I have claimed these as mine."

Well, tonight, I hung out with some friends and came back home, ready to eat my leftover hamburgers.

Though, apparently, even though they were made for me, and even though I had let everyone know that I still wanted to eat them, someone in the house decided that they wanted them more than I did, even though they had already had their own burgers the night before. I come home, hungry and very much looking forward to eating my hamburgers, to find the plate I had set them on rinsed and draining by the sink. No burgers anywhere to be found.

This isn't the first time it's happened, either. In fact, it's happened many times; and not just to me. I'm not the only one to have left an angry note on the fridge addressed "to whom it may concern," even though we all know who did it. And it's not like I'm just assuming that the plate thing counts as calling dibs. The brother who cooked the burgers works late shifts, and we usually have to put his portion of dinner on one of his plates so that "we know who" doesn't eat it.

Hell, "we know who" does it himself. Nobody's ever eaten food he claimed, even when it was two thirds of a chicken that he didn't buy.

I know it seems like I'm whining about nothing. "It's only food," I hear you say. Hell, I've said that myself.

But no, it's not about the food. It's about the disrespect. It's about the fact that he's stealing from his family, even if it is only food. It's about how he thinks the rules don't apply to him, even though he's the reason the rules exist.

I am incredibly fed up with it.

Report Narlepoax III · 506 views ·

Comments ( 4 )