I handed Thomas the garbage bag.
He looked at it. And didn't move.
"It's your turn." I elaborated.
He still didn't move. Maybe I needed to write directions. Or draw him a diagram, if that was too difficult.
He frowned. "I thought I was doing the laundry."
"That was last week," I said. "This week you get garbage."
"Why?" I wasn't feeling all that charitable, so I labeled his tone as a 'whine'. I staunchly maintain that is how he sounded.
"Because you gave all my clothes to Goodwill."
He didn't even bother to look guilty. "Exactly. Where's the laundry?"