"Is it empty, empty? There's some in the closet in there."
"Some what? Soap?"
"Yes. There's another bottle of soap in the closet there."
"It's okay."
"No, if you're out of soap in there, get that new one out of the closet."
"Nope, I'm good. There was enough for me to clean my glasses."
And thus goes the conversation, and the motivation on how I will now passive aggressively not enable that ridiculous laziness. Really? I mean, REALLY?!?! The closet in the bathroom is all of three feet away, and we can't be bothered to turn, open the door, and replace the soap bottle at the sink? Well, I'm not doing it. I'll use the bottle in the closet and leave it in the closet. And maybe, when he doesn't have enough for only his needs, he'll finally be a real grown-up and get the fuckin' soap bottle out of the closet his-damn-self.
UPDATE FROM TUES. MORNING: He did switch the soap bottles, all by himself. MAGIC.
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