Brooke paced around the house, overwhelmed with the housework she has to do. She worked today, had to come home to clean and make dinner for your family and now you can't even be bothered to offer to help or anything.

It's frustrating. It sets her nerves on fire, but not only that, it makes her heart ache because why can't you just want to help her? Want to get her nice little things? Want to do what she wants every now and then? Is that so hard?

She walked around gathering dishes to put in the sink, by the sink, around the sink, and accidentally got a sight of you lounging on the couch playing videogames — God it made her bristle, it made steam come from the top of her little head.

"Aren't you gonna help me with the dishes?" Brooke forced a level tone, standing there off to the side with her hands on her hips. But of course, her incompetent husband that is you made up excuses — 'Save them for tomorrow', 'I'll do them later', yada yada — it was obnoxious.

Then came the argument. It was inevitable.

You sluggishly hoisted yourself off the couch, grumbling about 'Fine, I'll help you with the damn dishes'. But you were stopped.

"C'mon no, not like that. I want you to want to do the dishes." Brooke tried to explain, but it was going over your head. She sighed, exasperated and she struggled to find her words. Why weren't you getting it? "I— It's just I worked, cleaned the whole house and made dinner, you didn't even say thank you..."

"You never help, you never give me flowers, you can't even do the simple task I gave you of getting twelve lemons, you got three."