And he did it again for dinner.  Tried to be polite and pick up his finished plate from him, but he saw that as an opportunity to ask me if I cleaned my room again.  Last goddamn time I volunteer to help you clean up, motherfucker.

Well, probably not.  And look at me -- I'm cleaning up my room now.  Sorta.  Well, not enough to placate My Fucking Father.  And as long as that's the only thing I can trigger him on, well, maybe I should continue to not do it.