My Life as a House, artist unknown

She: If you need the address on that piece of paper you’ve left on the table, you should put it away.
He: I don’t need it.
She: As long as you’re sure. I’m pretty tired of being blamed whenever you can’t find something.
He: I don’t need the lecture.
She: And I don’t need to pick up after you and then get shit when you’ve misplaced your keys or a number or your clothes, especially when it’s usually you yourself who’s lost them and nothing to do with me.
He, going out the door, nose out of joint: Thank you.
She: Any time.

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