My six-year-old is the misunderstood hero of our home. Not because he has to take a bath, but because he has to go up the stairs to get to the bath. Then he has to take off his clothes to get into the bath. Then he has to get out of the bath. 

Laundry is always a tomorrow problem that rolls into infinite tomorrows. It’s the alpha and the omega of chores. You don’t remember how it started because it’s always been there and you don’t think you’ll ever live to see the end of it because you probably won’t.

I stood there and watched the tire deflate in real time, like it was auditioning for a slow-motion disaster reel. It escaped the tire like it had a built-in industrial fan blowing out air as if the world depended on it. It felt like life took a pin and popped that tire like a balloon only I was too stunned to cry.

Snugly, affectionate calico. Serves companion needs, but struggles with personal boundaries.