“Stop the car.”

“I should drive it into the garage.”

“No. I want Mark to come out and carry in the bags.”

“You know he won’t. He hates to help.”

“He’ll help this time if he wants his allowance. Honk the horn.”

“It’ll attract the neighbours.”

“Honk it once then. It’s time your son learned some responsibility.”

“My son? You gave birth to him.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t get pregnant by myself. Honk the blasted horn.”

                She leaned over, pressed on it. He swore.

                Their elderly neighbour leaned in the window. “Hi, you folks  need some help?”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~