At least he can be gracious

RM: Thank you for the lesson...
A.: [Looks up, quizzical expression]
RM: ...in dogged perseverance and self-sufficiency.
A.: I appreciate your wanting to help, but I had to do that on my own. I had to know that if I got a flat out on the road, I could put this kind of tire back on.
RM: You have a cell phone. You could call me, call 911...
A.: Call 911 for a flat bike tire??
RM: Why not?
A.: Or I can just deal with it on my own.

RM had come in half an hour or so earlier and immediately sat down and practically grabbed the tire out of my hands.

RM: Can I help?
A.: No, thanks. How was your trip?
RM: It was good.
A.: You metroed after all?
RM: I did-- it was so easy.

We'd discussed this on Thursday.

A.: So, you're flying out of National this time. Are you going to metro?
RM: I'm so lazy... I'll probably just drive and park there.
A.: That is lazy. It's actually *faster* to metro.

A., not out loud: Prick. Carbon emissions, plus an extra $10 per day for the taxpayer, because you won't walk for ten minutes.

Back to today

RM: I was actually hoping I'd see you on Friday so I could give you this umbrella. I didn't know if you had one.
A.: I do have an umbrella... I tend not to use it. But thank you.

Does he think I'm ten years old? Does he think that, when it rains, I won't manage to get from place to place without his guidance? Don't say, 'he's trying to be nice.' My point is, at the spoon-feeding level, trying to be nice is trying to be annoying.

RM: Here, let me help you.
A.: No-- I'd really rather do this myself.
RM: Come on! [Fake crying/expressing frustration]. You don't have to do everything yourself! It can be a team effort.
A.: It's not a two-person job, and it's something I need to do on my own.

He continued to look at me with frustration as I struggled with the tire--and it was a struggle-- but I got it. And now I know I know how to do it (especially after I did it again with the second one). And the sense of personal satisfaction at having completed something I'd been struggling with was priceless-- so much so that I felt no smugness at my roommate for doubting me.

RM: Can I mow the lawn?
A.: You could. I mowed it yesterday, but if you feel it could use additional mowing, feel free.
RM: Well, the front isn't done. [By front, he means not the entire front lawn--which was mowed--but the very front of the front lawn, which is practically vertical, and thus, difficult to mow. Besides, the respectable neighbors to the left don't mow that part of their lawn, and that was all the go-ahead I needed to ignore mine.]
A.: Right, I don't generally bother with the front.
RM: Can I do it?
A.: If you want.

If he wants to do yardwork, I'm not complaining.