💬 My brother and I didn't talk for a day over the last samosa

There were 5 samosas on the plate on Sunday evening. My brother ate 2, I ate 2. That left 1. We both reached for it at the same time and our hands met. He said, I'm older. I said, I paid for the oil. That made no sense but it felt strong. Then our mother came in with the chai and said, just split it. We both refused. I took the samosa and went to my room. He said I stole it, and I said I'd claimed it. We didn't speak for the rest of Sunday. At dinner we passed things through our mother. She said, pass the salt to your brother. I said, tell him it's there. He said, tell him it's there. She put the salt down in the middle of the table and just stared at the wall. Monday morning he left for work without saying bye. I heard the door close harder than usual. At 1 pm he sent a photo of a samosa from the canteen with no message. I sent back a photo of my lunch. Rice, dal, a pickle, nothing exciting. He replied with a laughing face. That was the end of it. No sorry from either of us, we just stopped. I found out later the samosa I took was cold and a bit oily. He told me that he'd seen it and left it for me on purpose. I don't believe him. Yesterday there were 4 samosas on the plate, and I ate 2 very quickly. He counted them out loud, then went and bought a second packet just for himself.

The last piece of anything is a genuine minefield in my house, we now split desserts by weight on a kitchen scale because the arguments got that petty growing up between us. Sounds excessive typing it out here but it has worked for years, nobody can claim favoritism when there is an actual number involved instead of a rough guess by whoever is cutting it.

The lunch photo is the real apology. That's how my brother and I fix things too. Ours was a phone charger. Our mother hid both our phones for a full day and it worked better than any lecture.

Mine was chicken 65, 6 pieces on a plate. I ate 3, and he took the rest while I was away. I didn't talk to him for 2 days. He kept leaving the TV remote next to my bed. We made up only when our father bought a second plate and put it down between us. Nobody said sorry in my house either, so your canteen photo made total sense to me.