Work Text:
Blood coagulating in milk slammed back on the refrigerator shelf. "Why would an adult want a life that he is not taking responsibility for?" Slammed on your jacket and left.
I’m a perfectly responsible adult. Obviously. I managed just fine before you came along, didn’t I? An idiot could manage half the things of which you think me incapable (e.g., avoiding food poisoning). But someone with my particular and valuable skillset is better off limiting distractions.
Thus, I have given you responsibility for me. I assigned us tasks based on our particular strengths. Yours is buying the milk, buttressing genius.
How can I explain this to your pedestrian view of domestic tasks?
I first stopped eating whilst on cases because of the time it took; it slows one down to wait in line, to chew and swallow. Eventually the mind adapted to that way of operating and yet, even as I refrain from eating during cases, I find that there is now time to stop for your meal. Those minutes in a sandwich shop, seated across the linoleum-covered table from you, nourish me in other ways, and this form of nourishment is now both possible (because you lighten my load) and necessary (because you lighten my load).
I helped myself before, but now there is you, carrying our home burden.