When Alice and I first moved in together, everything was great. We split rent, shared chores, and spent time together. But three months in, she stopped cleaning entirely. Dirty dishes piled up, clothes were tossed everywhere, and trash overflowed. She even started calling me “Cinderella,” like it was a joke.
The breaking point came when she had a date with her boyfriend, Mark. Bursting into my room, she said, “Cinderella, make the apartment perfect tonight.” I smiled. “Sure, Alice.”
I scrubbed the floors and polished every surface—but I had a plan. I gathered every dirty dish, piece of clothing, and overflowing trash and carried it into her bedroom, scattering it across her dresser, bed, and floor. Then I locked the door and taped a note: “Enjoy the clean apartment.”
When Alice returned with Mark, the common areas gleamed. She proudly showed him around—then stepped into her bedroom and froze. Mark stared in horror. “Alice, I thought you said you loved cleaning,” he said.
I stepped out, smiling. “I thought you’d appreciate having all your things in one place, Alice. After all, you love cleaning, right?”
Her anger faltered. Finally, she sighed, “Fine. You’re right. I’ll start doing my part.”
From then on, Alice cleaned up, the apartment felt like home again, and our friendship slowly recovered.
