Washing the Dishes.
Dinner was done, and the dishes were piled high on the sink. Sighing, Yoshino turned and looked at her lazy son and husband. They were both lounging on the couch, looking sleepy after a filling dinner.
She turned back to the dishes. There was no way in hell she was doing all those fricking plates.
"YOU TWO!" she hollered, on the top of her voice, enjoying the fact that the moment her mouth opened, the two's heads would snap upwards and they would stand to attention. "I cooked this meal, so you can clean up." They both let out a long groan. "Stop that!" she barked.
Smiling cheerfully she went upstairs and ran a nice warm bath.
***
"Dad, dishes are too troublesome." Shikaku looked down at his son. "If you do them I will increase your allowance to 30 dollars a week." "Da-ad!!!" "40 dollars." Shikamaru blinked. "45 and you've got a deal."
Shikaku smirked. "Good boy." With that he walked upstairs, looking for his wife.
***
Shikamaru ran the water into the sink, and when it as full, added the liquid soap.
"Dishes are so troublesome." He told himself. A soft moaning noise came from upstairs. "...Eww".
Sighing he picked up the first plate, and dipped it into the water, and picking up the wash cloth, began scrubbing it. Rice was surprisingly sticky and required quite a lot of work. Rolling up his sleeves, he dipped it into the bubbly water and scrubbed harder. After a few seconds he lifted the now clean plate up.
About 30 minutes later all the dishes were successfully dry and stacked in the correct shelves. "That was too troublesome..." he said, absentmindedly scratching his arms. Shikamaru turned to the lounge room and sat on it.
***
"There you are Shikamaru! It's nearly 11:30, you're supposed to be in bed." Yoshino shouted walking into the lounge room. And dropped the book she was holding. On the couch was her crying son, arms pouring blood from where they had been scratched. "You fool!" she screamed, running to the first aid kit upstairs, shoving her confused husband out of the way, and ripping the kit of its shelf on the wall.
"What's going on?" Shikaku asked, picking himself of the ground.
"Shikaku, are you allergic to dishwater?" Yoshino yelled angrily, bandaging up her sons arms, rather tightly, much to his dismay. "It hurts!" he wailed sadly.
"Yep!" he said grinning, before he saw the state of his son. "Aw crap."
"Dad!!!" he grizzled, his face resembling something of a small child, with a scrapped knee. "MUM! That's way too tight!"
"Stop whinging!" she hollered back at him, tugging the bandage roughly.
"Ow!"
Shikaku looked into the kitchen, and smiled. "You did a good job, boy. It looks really clean."
"How troublesome..."
THE END
Well, this is my first fiction in ages! R&R please!
Also if you have any one-shot ideas, please feel free to lend them. Also check out my collab account, FirefoxvsKesh. Lots of fics coming your way!!!
From Shadlay