"You need to step up your game. This is intolerable," Cordelia sighed in disappointment at her son's antics.
"Can we not do this right now?" Adimiro replied, clearly frustrated. This had become a common routine between the two— a mother striving for perfection, setting unrealistic goals, and a son masking his misery with mischief.
"I'm sorry that working my ass off isn't good enough for you," Adimiro said, his frustration spilling over. They had been going back and forth for at least an hour now.
"You should be," his mother sneered with venom, her agitation evident. The silence that followed was thick, pregnant with tension, almost palpable.