Fifteen of ’em

Aup learned a long time ago to stop wanting things. It was a lot easier to just take a thing and decide if you wanted it later.

This was how they ended up with fifteen whisks. “What am I supposed to do with these?”
Pau rolled their eyes. “I don’t know. Why did you bring them in the first place.”

Aup bit their lower lip. “I didn’t do this all at once or anything. This was more like a one at a time.”

“Then how?”

“I’m cleaning,” they told Pau, sitting down at the table. They had two of those. It was easier to remember that they had two tables. It was harder to remember that they had any whisks. “I just… found them all.”

“I see you found the box of masking tape I told you I’d brought.”

Aup made a face. “I said I was sorry.”

“Such accusations.”

“And I am sorry!”

Their little tiff notwithstanding, Aup still had fifteen whisks and no idea what to do with them. Perhaps their way of life wasn’t the best way of going about it.

No, that was fine. They preferred trying to figure out what to do with it then needing one and not having it. In this way, Aup learnt nothing.