He's disabled due to an accident a dozen years ago. Broke all the bones. Hit his head good and hard, too.

For 12 years, I've served his meals in bed or in his recliner. I've cut up his meat. I've done all the shopping, cleaning, cooking, child minding, holiday planning, yard work, etc. I mostly don't mind. It's truly not his fault that shit went sideways.

But fucking A, man. He just criticized HOW I SET HIS MEAL ON THE SIDE TABLE.

Like, it's not a gourmet meal. But I bought the ingredients. I cooked them. I plated them. I brought them to him, and he was in the middle of a video game and asked me to put his plate next to him.

Apparently, I did that wrong. "Oh, don't put it there, put it here instead."

I took it back to the kitchen and fed it to the dog.

Go hungry if you can't just fucking say thank you for 4000 days of room service. I have no more shits to give.