Life has accelerated this week. Routines like laundry and dishes have been short changed, leaving soggy linens in the washer, and crusty cereal bowls in inopportune places. Meaning not in the sink.

While the walls of responsibility in our home are not impermeable, mostly those two chores fall to me. I have been a stay at home mom for the bulk of our marriage, and my three part time jobs do not add up to the time John puts in. One of them consists of four hours a week. Another takes two.

But this week the other hours have whistled through my fingers, in ways that did not involve water and crumbs. Hence the domestic neglect. I tossed my regret about the mess to John, and his answer felt like a helium balloon.

"It's not that you alone are behind. We are all behind on cleaning up."

Mind you the piles are still mocking me. The pace has not slacked. But I feel differently. As if the burden is shared. And even a four year old knows that three kids carrying a bin of blocks works better than one.