Ron is it normal that i won't wash silverware?

My mom had a boyfriend. Let's call him Ron.

He came to dinner to eat with the family. This night, it was my turn to do the dishes.
I happen to talk to myself while I do dishes, it helps me get through mundane tasks.

Anyway, he heard me in full blown conversation with myself, I felt him staring at me. I stopped talking because he was right behind me, awkwardly close. Was that his breath I felt on my on my skin?
I washed in silence now and Ron said, "Oh no, don't stop talking to yourself now."

I wanted to deny that I had been talking to myself, but instead I just started singing.
I tried to make it look like I was never having a conversation with myself, as if the whole thing was part of a song, but he stopped me.

"Don't pretend like you were over here singing, I caught you talking to yourself."
He was a grown man and I was a socially awkward teenager who wasn't good at confrontation, so I went silent again and continued scrubbing.

But... I HATE washing silverware. I don't know why. I would usually find a way to get out of washing them somehow.

I would usually wash everything else in the sink and do other extra work to make it look like I was way too exhausted to wash the silverware.

Using excuses like, "Mom, I've washed so many dishes, cleaned the entire kitchen and everything else, I'm just going to leave the silverware to soak for the night."

That way, the next day, it would be someone else's turn to do the dishes and they would have to do my left over silverware. Seriously, I'd rather clean the entire house than to wash silverware.

Little did I know, things would go differently that night.

Going through my usual routine of trying to get out of washing silverware by cleaning other unrelated things, I started plucking trash up from around the kitchen and wiping counters.

Ron then went to the sink and made this weird sighing noise. I ignored it until I heard him say, "Can I ask you a question?"
I didn't speak, I kind of just wanted to leave the room, I was feeling a little bothered by his presence, but out of respect, I nodded my head.

"Are you going to wash the silverware?" Ron asked. I was confused as to why he even cared, it's not like it was his house or like I was his child, but again, I strayed respectful since it seemed like a harmless question.

"Um, I just have so much to do. The silverware isn't-"
Then he cut me off, "Is there something wrong with the silverware?" At first I was confused by his question, but as he continued talking, I realized he was mocking me.

"Is there some reason we should be afraid of the silverware? I just want to know, in case I ever decide to wash dishes here. Should I avoid cleaning those?" He pointed to the sink.
I shook my head no, not really knowing what else to do.
"Oh, so you mean to tell me that there's nothing wrong with them? They aren't poisonous or deadly? You just decide they aren't worth being washed." His tone seemed accusatory. Angry even.
"Is this guy scolding me?" I thought to myself.

I was getting beyond irritated with the way he was speaking to me so I decided to just leave to kitchen and go to bed. But suddenly he moved in front of me, blocking my way to get out. He was much taller than me and intimidatingly muscular.

"Excuse me," I said.

"I don't think so. I'm not moving from this spot until you wash every piece of silverware in that sink." He said.
I felt like he was crossing the line. Who was he to force me to do anything?

"MOM!" I yelled to the top of my lungs.

"MOMMMM!!" What was taking her so long to come or at least answer back?
Like, what if this guy did something to me and there she is feeling guilty all because she decided to take her good ole sweet time to respond?
He stood there, not budging, arms crossed.

Eventually my mother decided to finally show up.
"What is it Des?" She asked.
"Your boyfriend here won't move out of my way."
I said.
"That's because she needs to finish her chore," He said.
I snapped, "I've done my chore and MORE. So I don't know what you're talking about, just move."

"No, you need to wash the silverware," He looked at my mother and told her, "There's a pile of forks and spoons in the sink that need to be washed, and I'm standing here to make sure it gets done."

For some reason I expected my mom to be on my side, she'd tell him that I'd done enough or say that it was just silverware and it didn't matter if I did them... No.

Instead she turned to me, "Des, you know it's your turn, just finish the dishes and then you can leave."

What!? What kind of conspiracy was this? Were they in kahoots? He turned my own mother against me.

Then I thought about it for a second because I'm a reasonable person. True, it was my chore. "Ok, I'll do them. But does he have to stand here the whole time?" I asked her.

Ron spoke up, "I want to make sure you do them."
My mom pretty much agreed with him and she left to go take a shower.
My siblings were already in bed alseep, so I felt alone with him.
I picked up the sponge and dish soap, all the while he was standing behind me.

I started washing each utensil, spoon by spoon, fork by fork, I was disgusted by it, the task was so mundane, so meticulous, so exasperating.

I wanted nothing more than to talk to myself, I needed something to take my mind away from this horrible thing I had to do.

As if he could read my mind, Ron said, "Go ahead, talk to yourself. That's what you like to do right?" He said it so smugly, I could hear the smirk in his voice.
Ugh, this guy was seriously pushing my buttons.

I had to wash silverware AND get ridiculed? I was going to vomit.
"Just leave me alone ok? I'm washing the stupid silverware," I said.
"Are you talking back to me?" He interrogated.
Who did this man think he was? My father or something?
"You know what?" I said without turning around to look at him, "I don't know what my mom sees in you, but I see who you really are. You're a bad guy."

Just then, I was putting a spoon into the dish drainer but he grabbed my arm and it fell out of my hand,
"You better watch your mouth," He said angrily while gripping my arm and pulling me closer to his face so he wouldn't have to shout, "Kid, you don't know anything about me," He hissed, glaring into my eyes.

I stood, shocked, as he tossed my arm out of his grasp. He was right, I didn't know anything about him expect that he was my mom's boyfriend and he would be around all the time. How would I be able to live with this?

I turned around to finish the silverware and when I was done, I hurried to my room in silence.

I still hate washing silverware.