I live with a bitter melon, and his name is Dad.
I got home after my 18 hour day, surprisingly happy about my test score and I'm telling my mom about it, and he has to rain on my parade.
"If you need to shower, shower now," he says as he gives me a nasty look. Like I smell bad or something.
You know, if I pay to live here, you'd think I'd have the freedom to choose when I want to take a shower.
Seriously.... If you know of someone who's renting out a teeny weenie apartment, let me know.
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