Divorced but Still Vibing

Okay, so my parents are, like… vibing. But in the most divorced way possible.

Like, they’ll be in the kitchen, laughing over oat milk or whatever

the hell boomers drink now, and I’m sitting there like, “Aren’t y’all supposed

to hate each other?” They’ve been “figuring things out” for three years. THREE.

That’s not a marriage, that’s a slow-motion car crash. My dad sleeps on the couch “because

his back hurts,” and my mom calls him “her roommate with benefits.” I—what the ACTUAL

fuck does that even mean?? Last week, they had a full-blown argument over who

gets custody of the air fryer. THE AIR FRYER. Not me. Not my little brother.