The Sis just got home.
She went to the toilet, changed out of her pants, and walk around in the kitchen in her “mini dress”.
Open the fridge, came a ‘pop’ sound. And then a very distinct pungent smell. I so wanted to tell her to stop drinking (beer/stout/whisky/vodka/wine/whatever), she’s getting fat! (Har har, payback time!)
I turned around to pass her the papers.
Eh, it’s durian puffs.
I don’t know if I should be glad that The Sis broke out of the 9-6 chain and starting working home based.
On one hand, it gives her a lot more free time and she seems a lot happier. On the other hand, The Mother rather see her out of the house and back with a steady income.
If you ask me, the ever lazy little sister… I’d rather see her happier, albeit with a smaller paycheck. But bitch please, stick to your previous wardrobe. It was rather chic.
