With the Cell Games mere days away, all was quiet on the home front. Goku and Krillin had gone fishing, Gohan had retired to his room to write a twelve-page research paper on the symbolism of kabuki actors' movements (the obedient boy), and Chi-Chi was tackling the remaining dishes from lunchtime. The usual variety feast was tried-and-true, but sometimes she felt like a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. Well, not tonight. They would be getting the usual again, and Kami help them if they complained about it.
A lump rose (faster than bile) in her throat. Her boy was studying nobly, toiling away in obscurity for that sweet long-term academic payoff. "He's my pumpkin… my precious Gohan! He'll become the greatest scholar who ever lived! And everyone will know how smart he is… No, no, that's no good!" As she feverishly scrubbed a pot, dishwater splashed across her cheek. Son Chi-Chi kept a bottle of piss under the sink. "I keep a close watch on this Saiyan of mine… I keep him studying until bedtime… I keep ordering textbooks of all kinds… even if he whines, he'll fall in line!" Ashamed of herself for messing up the pacing, she hurled a teacup into the dishwater. "Oh, thank heavens my little Gohan didn't hear Mommy say that…"
Having finished washing her third bowl of the midafternoon, Chi-Chi took her first fifteen-minute break. Only eighty-seven dishes remained, not including the plates, chopsticks, cups, pans, pots, and stirring spoons. "Gohan studies all the time! Day by day, he's getting wise!" White-knuckled, she gripped the rim of the sink. Steam rose past her cheeks. "Work, little pumpkin, do not cry… you are Mama's little Einstein!"
Glancing around, Kakarot's wife took for herself an untouched egg roll from an unwashed dish and pushed it gently past her lips; with world-class pace, she one-throated it like a chicken swallowing a rat fetus whole. Rumor has it that nobody saw her do that, and so Chi-Chi and Goku's marriage persisted with passion and vigor for years to come.