You're right. That's quite disappointing. Here you go, bonus bathroom cleaning scene:
*cough, cough* "Remind me again why we use a cleaner with so much bleach? I'm dying over here." "Because, sweetie pie, for some reason our mildew doesn't just look funky and smell bad; it glows in the dark and visibly moves. You wouldn't have anything to do with that, now would you?" "I resent the implication, and yes, probably." "Why am I even scrubbing this? I'm not the one who likes baths. Here! And you'll need these too!" "Oooof! Wha--? Hey!" "I'll just clean something more resonable . . . like the mirror, thank you very much. And you can wrestle with that monstrosity, whatever it is." "You know, one day we're going to find out this mildew cures cancer or something, and then you're going to regret being so cross over it." "Keep telling yourself that, dear."
no subject
*cough, cough* "Remind me again why we use a cleaner with so much bleach? I'm dying over here."
"Because, sweetie pie, for some reason our mildew doesn't just look funky and smell bad; it glows in the dark and visibly moves. You wouldn't have anything to do with that, now would you?"
"I resent the implication, and yes, probably."
"Why am I even scrubbing this? I'm not the one who likes baths. Here! And you'll need these too!"
"Oooof! Wha--? Hey!"
"I'll just clean something more resonable . . . like the mirror, thank you very much. And you can wrestle with that monstrosity, whatever it is."
"You know, one day we're going to find out this mildew cures cancer or something, and then you're going to regret being so cross over it."
"Keep telling yourself that, dear."
*hugs*