"I'm home..." Grandma's voice carried as she passed through the front door. "Donnie?"

"What?" he responded firmly. It came from upstairs. "Willie went to work already. Mom's watching drama, and I watched so many ads trying to finish an episode of The Powerpuff Girls, I'm sick." He was gazing up at the ceiling with wide eyes. "Wanna play?" Not that he hadn't attempted his grandma's solitaire.

"Well, I got lunch. Fried chicken. Your favorite. You better come and eat it before it gets cold." It was her way of getting him to come down the stairs and help, as if the message hadn't already sunk in. She tugged at her mini shopping cart as she rested it against a nearby table, emptying it item by item. Groceries, bentos, ruler, glue... He still hadn't come down. "Donnie! Get your butt down here and help your grandma out a bit, will you?"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," he whined. He got up from his lying position as he hustled down the stairs. "Now what?"

"What do you mean by 'what'? Help me take some of the stuff upstairs so I don't have to go back and forth in the elevator. Use your brain and be helpful for once, will you?" she sighed. "You know what? Here. Take the bentos. Take them upstairs and just set them on the dining table. I'll handle the rest." He nodded. "Now up you go." She turned to gather her groceries.

"Umm... The bag's moist."

Well, no shit, Sherlock. She could feel the anger welling up inside her. "Just take the bentos upstairs, and all will be fine. It's just water. It's not going to kill you."

 

Mhm, he sounded unconvinced.

"Now up you go." He picked up the bag and headed back up the stairs.

"You know what?" she rethought. "You can even take the elevator if you want, if walking is too hard." She made sure to place extra emphasis on her phrasing as a way to poke fun.

"Whatever," he responded. "It's a little too slow for me, anyway." She sighed.

"Whatever you say." And with the arrival of the elevator, she stepped in as the doors slowly closed behind her, and up to the second floor she went.