My family thinks I’m magical and it isn’t great

I am flattered that my family thinks I possess magical powers. They seem to think that only I can make the water flow in order to refill the empty jug they quietly put back in the fridge. I am believed to be some computer, who can easily update our home’s inventory. They do not understand that the stores I shop at to stock up on household items do not require exclusive memberships and passwords, but are readily available to the public. It seems I am the cat whisperer; only I can see when the cats have run out of food. My body is thought to be so in sync with time that it will rise and wake my family according to their unique schedules. My family seems to think reading a calendar requires a graduate degree and that the use of it is reserved to certified scribes such as myself. My strength must be talked about throughout the apartment halls, as the dishes are left for me to scrub. And dry. And put away. As with the laundry. And the floors. Same with the counters …

Yes, it is all very flattering indeed.

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