Teaching Her Housework - 1
Five days had passed since Kim Taeho came back from his interview.
Today was his first day at the new job, and he was getting ready to head out dressed even more sharply than he had been for the interview.
My sister-in-law and I had come out to the entryway to see him off.
“Heading to work?”
“Uh, yeah. First day starts today.”
“Good. Go do well, then.”
“What's gotten into you? No cursing, and now you're suddenly saying nice things?”
“It's not for your sake, idiot. If you get fired from this one, you fall behind on rent again. I already waived interest and gave you a discount — if you still can't pay, should I just kill you?”
“Y-yeah, got it.”
Kim Taeho nodded with a face tight with nerves, then his eyes drifted toward my sister-in-law standing beside me.
After everything that had happened between them, the fact that she'd still come out to see him off — well, it showed that husband and wife were still husband and wife, at least on the surface.
“I'm going to work hard from now on, so you do your best too.”
“…….”
What's this? No answer?
She could at least manage a 'have a good day at work,' couldn't she?
I gave the arm of my sister-in-law — who was just staring blankly at her husband — a light little pat.
“Haaah.”
She let out a sigh and scrunched up her face slightly.
“…Well. Have a good day, I guess. I'll be expecting things.”
“What?”
With an expression and tone that could only be described as thoroughly mocking, her send-off was clearly infuriating Kim Taeho.
Honestly, that was worse than not seeing him off at all.
What is this even.
This wasn't me covering for him — even if I were Kim Taeho, this would absolutely be rage-inducing.
Imagine sweating buckets hunting for a job, finally passing an interview, and then getting that as a send-off on your very first day.
Being angry would be the natural response.
Her arrogance is reaching for the sky, isn't it.
So she earned a hundred grand selling her body, huh?
Oh my, aren't we just soaring above the clouds now?
“Maybe tone it down a little? Is this really how you want to act on his first day?”
“…Right. Yeah. I got a little carried away over nothing.”
I stepped in between the two of them to mediate.
Whatever else they got up to, I didn't want to hear them bickering first thing in the morning.
“Forget about your wife and focus on your job. I'm on break starting today, so unless I have other plans, I'll be home. I'll be watching to see if she does the housework properly and teaching her as I go — so you just focus on your work.”
“Okay, got it. She, uh, she doesn't really know much, so teach her well.”
“I've got that handled.”
“R-right. You'd know what you're doing, of course…. Well then. Off to work I go.”
“Yeah.”
The couple, having waged a full-blown war of nerves since the crack of dawn, clearly had no intention of making up — my sister-in-law kept her mouth shut the entire time, and Kim Taeho just stormed out.
“Phew.”
Watching them bicker before breakfast had even finished drew a sigh out of me whether I liked it or not.
Whether this couple fought or not was none of my business, but the truth was, things between them had been badly strained ever since I told them the interview results.
And the reason is obvious without even looking.
Kim Taeho had been juggling work and housework up until now.
But he'd decided to hand the housework over to his wife.
Just as everyone would have predicted, she threw an absolute fit, insisting he do things the way they'd always been done, openly spewing remarks that treated her own husband like an ATM machine.
Kim Taeho didn't back down either, retorting bluntly that her influencer work wasn't what it used to be anyway, and that she had nothing else to do around the house, so she could at least handle that and help out.
Unable to rebut her husband's logic, my sister-in-law ground her teeth — and in the end, it was settled as a semi-forced agreement.
You can get your back blown out, sure, but you've still got to earn your keep.
My sister-in-law stood there grumbling to herself as she stared at the spot where her husband had vanished, and I placed a hand lightly on her shoulder.
“Hwah—!?”
“Why are you so startled? I just have something to talk to you about.”
She flinched like I was some pervert groping her, when all I'd done was give her a light touch. I let out an awkward laugh at the sight.
“D-do you have business with me or something?”
“Yes. Of course I do.”
“…….”
The moment I nodded, my sister-in-law suddenly flushed red and wrapped her arms over her chest.
What on earth is going through this woman's head?
From her behavior and attitude, I could tell right away exactly what she was thinking.
Since I hadn't been thinking any such thing whatsoever, it left me speechless.
“Is there literally nothing in your head but sex? You're a total shut-in pervert, aren't you?”
“Wh-what…!? There's no way I was thinking anything so-shameless like that!”
“Then why were you blushing and clutching those enormous breasts like you were showing them off?”
“Th-that's because….”
I could practically hear the gears grinding in my sister-in-law's head from here.
“Right. A-actually, I was just going to ask you wh-which chores I should be doing. It's not that I don't know how — I just don't know the order of things, or….”
“That's why you were blushing? Embarrassed that you don't know something?”
“…Y-yes, that's it exactly.”
“…….”
Being this transparently bad at lying is a talent in its own right.
The way she struggled so hard to hide what she was actually thinking was a little cute, honestly — and since I could savor this kind of entertainment anytime, I decided to let it slide.
“Ahem. Well then, let's start with the laundry room. It's supposed to rain in two days, so the laundry has to come first.”
“Y-yes. Let's go right away.”
Watching my sister-in-law relax, clearly relieved that I'd taken her excuse at face value, I coughed and barely managed to hold in my laughter.
Whether she was genuinely that naive or just playing dumb, I had no idea — either way, I led my sister-in-law off to the laundry room.
“…….”
“…….”
“Wh-why are you looking at me like I'm completely hopeless?”
“Do I not look hopeless to you right now?”
Truly exasperating.
We'd set laundry as the first task, and problems had erupted before we'd even started.
“Why on earth are you putting the detergent and the fabric softener in together?”
Detergent mixes into the water during the wash cycle; softener goes in during the rinse.
Even if you didn't know that, it wouldn't matter in the slightest — the machine has separate compartments for each one.
You pull the drawer out, pour it in, push it back, done. After that, the machine takes care of everything itself, and until you hear the little chime telling you the load is finished, you just go do something else with the time.
“It all mixes together in the wash anyway, doesn't it? I don't see what the problem is.”
“Then why do you think they manufacture separate compartments for detergent and softener? They could have just done away with them entirely, or made it a single slot.”
“…….”
“And you were acting so confident, too. What is this?”
Detergent wasn't the only problem, either.
Any clothing with buttons or zippers is supposed to be buttoned up or put in a laundry net before washing — she was just hurling everything in willy-nilly.
I wondered if maybe it was a one-off mistake, so I watched her all the way through, and soon enough I didn't need to wonder anymore.
Something tells me the other chores are going to be a disaster too.
From the very first task, the signs were not good.
“You're supposed to sweep the dust first, then use the steam. Why on earth are you steaming first?”
“B-but it all gets swept up either way….”
At those words, I pressed a hand to my forehead.
“You do know what steam is, right?”
“What kind of idiot do you take me for? It's vapor, obviously.”
“Then what, exactly, is a steam mop?”
“That's obviously for sanitizing and sterilizing with the hot vapor you get from boiling water.”
She said it with her own mouth.
And yet there she stood, tilting her head like she had no idea what the problem could possibly be.
“You just said it yourself — it's heat. So if you run that thing over the floor while the dust and hair are still sitting there, what do you think happens?”
“Uh, uhh…. U-umm….”
“It cakes onto the floor and gets ground in, leaves stains behind, doesn't it? And then you'd have to redo work that never needed doing in the first place.”
“…….”
Is this woman doing it on purpose?
It's not like she went through school without ever cleaning a classroom.
And besides, the answer was right there if she thought about it for even a second — instead she just stood there, head empty, staring blankly into space.
“Sister-in-law. Are you doing this on purpose?”
“I find it a little uncomfortable when you phrase things that way, like I couldn't possibly know something.”
“I'm not phrasing it any way — I'm asking you sincerely. Look at what you're doing right now. Does it look like I'm the one playing games here?”
“…….”
“Don't tell me this is you getting payback for what happened the other day?”
It's not as though I'd just taken it for free while threatening her — I paid her generously, enough that she had no room to feel shortchanged.
I had never once done anything that would genuinely wound her.
Unless… did she mean to provoke me on purpose, manufacture a situation where I'd pounce on her?
If that was the intent, then it succeeded. And even if it wasn't, it made no difference to me.
Because I fully intended to use this as my pretext to punish her.
“Do I… do I really have to stay like this…?”
“You brought all of this on yourself. What's there to whine about?”
SMACK—
I brought my hand down with a satisfying thwack on her plump, fully exposed rear.
“Kyaa…! St-stop hitting me. It h-hurts too much….”
“If you don't want to be hit, then quit talking back and do as you're told.”
My sister-in-law was receiving her punishment — stripped down to nothing but her underwear — while being schooled in the art of housework.
“H-how long. H-how long do I have to stay like this? C-can't you at least tell me that…?”
“Until your husband gets home from work. That's all.”
“That's….”
“Believe me, I'm restraining myself from the urge to show him this exact sight, so consider yourself lucky. Am I understood?”
“Hh, hnn….”
Cowering, my sister-in-law shuffled off to finish the rest of the cleaning, and I followed along behind her — admiring the view as she went, while keeping a close eye to make sure she actually did it right this time.