There’s a moment that happens in a lot of houses that feels almost comical until it isn’t. People stand in front of the open fridge, look straight at what they need, and still say, ‘We’re out." Or they stand next to the trash and ask if it needs to go out, then ask where the thing is that’s lived in the same place for years. It’s small, almost nothing, and yet it carries this whole quiet message: at home, competence can disappear.
The problem usually isn’t the one fridge moment. It’s that it keeps happening. The same simple stuff keeps getting tossed to you like you’re the house’s help desk. “I didn’t know” starts showing up as the default, even for things they would absolutely figure out anywhere else. And somehow you end up being the one who notices what’s running low and the one who finishes what got half-done. Because none of this sounds like a big, serious problem when you say it out loud, it’s easy to talk yourself out of being annoyed. But you can hear it in your own voice anyway. A little snappier. A little flatter. And then you’re tired plus mad plus vaguely guilty for being mad, which is such a draining combo.