My oldest was at home when I pulled in with a car full of groceries and shopping. I have this deal with the kids – I will go hunt and gather the food, but they have to help haul it in when at home if they want to eat it.
This system works for us.
So my technically grown adult son starts hauling in groceries as I do the post-shop clearing of the gross stuff from the fridge. This included the fruit and veg drawers, which were only slightly neglected (as opposed to hearing little voices coming from within asking for freedom.)
Collin starts to put food in the fridge. I gather up some items and open the fridge as well…and notice he’s put the blueberries on the top shelf.
“Dude, we have these drawers for a reason.” I said as I moved the blueberries to the fruit drawer.
“I thought that’s just where we put food to die.”
So I called him a smart-ass and made him finish putting the groceries away himself.
He retorted that he got it from me.
Damn if the kid isn’t right. Smart-assery is a genetic trait on my side. It goes well with the sarcasm.