On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping in the basement. She found her husband, Marcus, in the kitchen, pouring coffee and studying a grocery list on his phone.

“I started the towels,” he said. “But I think one of them trapped the others against the side.”

Elena went downstairs and redistributed the load. By the time she returned, Marcus had made toast and added detergent, lightbulbs, and rice to the list. They ate standing at the counter, discussing what they needed for the week.

Before leaving, Elena stripped the bed while Marcus gathered the recycling. Together they carried two bins to the curb, then loaded reusable shopping bags into the trunk. Their first stop was the pharmacy, where Elena picked up a prescription and Marcus bought toothpaste. Next, they drove to the supermarket.

The store was crowded with families and employees restocking shelves. Marcus pushed the cart while Elena compared prices on chicken thighs. In produce, he chose apples and rejected a bag of wilted spinach. They divided the list: Elena went for yogurt and eggs while Marcus found canned tomatoes and rice. They met near the frozen foods, each carrying more than planned.

“Do we really need ice cream?” Elena asked.

Marcus looked at the detergent and lightbulbs in her arms. “Do we really need two kinds of yogurt?”

They kept both.

At checkout, Elena unloaded the cart while Marcus bagged the groceries, placing the eggs and bread on top. Back home, they carried everything inside in three trips. Marcus put away the pantry items, and Elena cleaned out the refrigerator before arranging the produce.

The washing machine beeped downstairs. Elena moved the towels to the dryer while Marcus replaced the burned-out bulb over the stove. By early afternoon, the errands were finished. They made sandwiches, opened the windows, and sat at the kitchen table, tired in the mild, satisfying way that came from having the house ready for another week.


On Saturday morning, Elena found Marcus in the kitchen, studying the grocery list on the refrigerator.

“You wrote ‘something for lunches,’” he said. “That could mean anything.”

“It means you should choose something besides chips,” Elena replied, tying her hair back. She added detergent to the list while Marcus checked the pantry for coffee.

They lived in a two-bedroom apartment outside Columbus, Ohio, and weekends often began with the chores they had postponed during the week. Marcus carried two baskets of laundry downstairs while Elena stripped the bed and gathered towels. At the building’s laundry room, they discovered that one washer was out of order, so they loaded everything into the remaining machine and set a timer on Elena’s phone.

While the clothes washed, they drove to the grocery store. Marcus pushed the cart, steering around a display of canned soup, while Elena compared prices on chicken breasts. They debated whether they would actually eat a large bag of spinach before it spoiled and settled on the smaller one. Marcus chose turkey and sliced cheese for lunches. Elena picked up apples, yogurt, rice, onions, and a jar of pasta sauce.

At the register, Marcus remembered they needed lightbulbs. He jogged back to the household aisle while Elena unloaded the cart. By the time he returned, slightly out of breath, the cashier was scanning the milk.

They packed the groceries into reusable bags and stopped at the gas station on the way home. Elena filled the tank while Marcus cleaned the windshield with the long-handled squeegee.

Back at the apartment, they put away the groceries together. Marcus transferred the laundry to the dryers, and Elena wiped down the refrigerator shelves after finding a sticky spot beneath the orange juice.

By early afternoon, the bed had clean sheets, the laundry was folded, and soup was warming on the stove. Marcus made grilled cheese sandwiches while Elena sorted the mail.

“Not a bad Saturday,” he said.

Elena looked at the stack of clean towels. “It’s not over. We still have to take out the recycling.”

Marcus sighed, but he was already reaching for the bin.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping in the basement. Her husband, Marcus, had started a load of towels but forgotten to balance them.

“You put the bath mat in with everything else, didn’t you?” she called down the stairs.

Marcus appeared with a screwdriver in one hand. “Maybe.”

While he rearranged the laundry, Elena made coffee and wrote a grocery list on the back of an envelope. They checked the refrigerator together, adding eggs, spinach, yogurt, and mustard. Marcus noticed they were nearly out of dish soap, and Elena reminded him they needed lightbulbs for the hallway.

Before leaving, they divided the chores. Elena wiped down the kitchen counters and watered the plants while Marcus replaced the air filter in the furnace. Then they carried a bag of recycling to the bins behind their townhouse.

The supermarket was crowded with families and college students. Marcus pushed the cart while Elena compared prices on pasta sauce. At the produce section, he chose apples, rejecting several with bruises, and she picked out onions and a bunch of cilantro. They disagreed briefly over cereal.

“The plain kind is cheaper,” Elena said.

“The plain kind tastes like cardboard,” Marcus replied, putting a box with almonds into the cart.

They compromised by buying both.

At the checkout, Elena unloaded the cart while Marcus bagged the groceries, keeping the eggs and bread on top. On the drive home, they stopped at a hardware store for lightbulbs and a small container of wall patch, since Marcus had noticed a dent near the coat rack.

Back home, they put everything away together. Elena portioned chicken for the freezer while Marcus labeled the containers with the date. After lunch, he patched the wall, and she folded the clean towels.

By three o’clock, the errands were finished. They sat on the couch with fresh coffee, tired but satisfied, and debated whether doing nothing for the rest of the afternoon counted as a plan.


On Saturday morning, Elena found Marcus in the laundry room, staring at the washing machine.

“It’s making that noise again,” he said as the drum thumped unevenly.

Elena opened the lid and rearranged the towels. “You put the bath mat on one side.”

Marcus nodded. “I was testing your expertise.”

They had lived in their Ohio townhouse for four years, long enough to know which appliances needed persuasion and which neighbors would block the shared driveway. While the washer restarted, Elena made a grocery list at the kitchen counter. Marcus checked the refrigerator, calling out what they needed.

“Eggs. Yogurt. Something green.”

“Broccoli?”

“Something green that we’ll actually eat.”

She added spinach and apples. Marcus put dish soap, coffee, and tortillas on the list, then remembered they were nearly out of cat litter. Their cat, Pepper, watched from the hallway as if the shortage were a personal failure.

Before leaving, they divided the remaining chores. Elena changed the sheets while Marcus took recycling to the bins and tightened a loose screw on the bathroom towel rack. Then they drove to the supermarket, where the parking lot was crowded with families and carts.

Inside, Marcus compared prices on coffee while Elena chose tomatoes. They debated whether they needed a large bag of rice.

“It’s cheaper per pound,” Marcus said.

“It also has to fit in the pantry,” Elena replied.

They bought the smaller bag.

At checkout, Elena noticed they had forgotten milk. Marcus jogged back for it while she unloaded the cart. He returned carrying milk and a discounted bunch of flowers.

“Not on the list,” she said.

“Neither were the cookies.”

Back home, they carried the bags in together. Elena put away the cold items while Marcus portioned chicken for the freezer. The washer buzzed, Pepper investigated the new litter, and rain began tapping against the kitchen window.

By early afternoon, the errands were finished. They heated leftover soup, opened the cookies, and sat at the table with the quiet satisfaction of having done nothing remarkable, but having done it together.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping against the laundry-room wall. She found her husband, Marcus, crouched beside it, trying to adjust the uneven load.

“You put the bath mat in with the towels again,” she said.

“It seemed efficient,” he replied, pulling out the dripping mat.

While Marcus restarted the washer, Elena made coffee and wrote a list on the back of an envelope: milk, rice, onions, chicken, dish soap, bananas. Marcus added coffee filters and crossed out chicken because they still had two packages in the freezer.

By ten, they were in the car. Their first stop was the post office, where Elena mailed a birthday card to her aunt in Arizona. Marcus waited outside and checked the tire pressure at the gas station next door. Then they drove to the hardware store for a replacement air filter. Elena compared the measurements on her phone while Marcus searched the shelves. They nearly bought the wrong size before noticing the numbers were reversed.

At the grocery store, they divided the list. Marcus went to produce and picked out bananas that were too green for Elena’s taste. She traded half of them for a riper bunch and found him examining two brands of coffee.

“The cheaper one is fine,” she said.

“You said that last time.”

“And you drank it.”

He put the cheaper coffee in the cart.

They also bought yogurt, eggs, tortillas, and a bag of chips that wasn’t on the list. At checkout, Elena loaded the belt while Marcus packed the reusable bags, putting the eggs and bread on top.

Back home, they carried everything inside in two trips. Marcus replaced the air filter and moved the laundry to the dryer. Elena put away the groceries, then chopped onions for soup. When Marcus came into the kitchen, she handed him the carrots.

He sighed, took the peeler, and turned on the radio. They worked side by side, discussing whether they had enough time to vacuum before lunch.


On Saturday morning, Elena found Marcus standing in the laundry room, studying the washing machine as if it had personally disappointed him.

“It’s making that noise again,” he said.

Elena listened to the uneven thumping. “The towels are all on one side.”

Marcus opened the lid, rearranged them, and restarted the cycle. The machine settled into a steady hum.

They had made a list over coffee: groceries, dry cleaning, lightbulbs, and a return at the hardware store. By ten, they were in Elena’s hatchback, arguing mildly about whether the gas gauge was low enough to justify stopping. Marcus won, mostly because he was driving.

At the hardware store, Elena returned an unopened faucet attachment they had bought in the wrong size. While she waited at customer service, Marcus found the warm-white LED bulbs they needed for the hallway. He also picked up a small packet of picture hooks.

“For the framed print?” Elena asked.

“The one that’s been leaning against the wall since April.”

She nodded. “Ambitious.”

Next they collected Marcus’s shirts from the dry cleaner, then drove to the supermarket. Elena pushed the cart while Marcus checked their list. They compared prices on olive oil, chose chicken thighs for Sunday dinner, and debated whether they already had rice.

“We have some,” Marcus said.

“We have half a cup.”

“That’s still some.”

They bought rice.

Near the produce section, Elena selected tomatoes while Marcus weighed green beans. He added a bag of tortilla chips to the cart without comment. She noticed but said nothing, then slipped in a pint of coffee ice cream.

Back home, they carried the bags upstairs in two trips. Marcus put away the pantry items while Elena divided the chicken into freezer containers. After lunch, she replaced the hallway bulbs, and he hung the framed print, measuring twice before driving in the hooks.

It ended up slightly crooked.

Elena tilted her head. Marcus adjusted it by a fraction.

“Better?”

“Better enough.”

From the laundry room came the buzzer. Elena went to fold the towels while Marcus gathered the empty grocery bags, and the ordinary work of Saturday continued.


On Saturday morning, Elena found Marcus standing in the kitchen, staring into the refrigerator.

“We have mustard, half a lemon, and something I’m afraid to identify,” he said.

Elena leaned around him. “That’s leftover rice.”

“From when?”

She closed the refrigerator. “We’re going shopping.”

They lived in a two-bedroom apartment outside Columbus, Ohio, close enough to the highway that traffic made a steady hush beyond the windows. Before leaving, they divided the chores. Marcus carried two baskets of laundry downstairs while Elena stripped the bed and gathered towels. When the washing machines were running, they returned upstairs and made a grocery list at the kitchen table.

Marcus checked the pantry and called out what they needed. Elena wrote everything in the notes app on her phone, adding coffee, dish soap, and batteries.

At the supermarket, Marcus steered the cart while Elena compared prices on pasta sauce. They disagreed briefly over cereal—he wanted the sugary kind, she pointed to the family-size box of bran flakes—and compromised by buying both.

In the produce section, Marcus chose apples and inspected a bag of potatoes. Elena picked out broccoli, onions, and a bunch of cilantro for tacos. They also bought chicken, tortillas, yogurt, milk, and frozen pizza for a night when neither of them wanted to cook.

At checkout, Elena loaded the belt while Marcus bagged the groceries, keeping the eggs and bread separate. The total was higher than they expected, so they studied the receipt in the parking lot. Coffee had gone up again.

Back home, they put everything away together. Marcus transferred the laundry to the dryers, and Elena cleaned the refrigerator shelf where the old rice container had leaked. Later, they folded clothes on the couch while a basketball game played on television.

By three o’clock, the bed had clean sheets, the refrigerator was full, and the apartment smelled faintly of lemon cleaner. Marcus opened the freezer.

“Pizza tonight?”

Elena dropped the last folded towel into the basket. “Absolutely.”


By nine on Saturday morning, Lena had started a load of towels, and her husband, Marcus, was crouched beneath the kitchen sink, trying to find the source of a slow drip. They lived in a two-bedroom townhouse outside Columbus, Ohio, where weekends often became a negotiation between chores and rest.

“It’s the supply line,” Marcus said, backing out with a flashlight in one hand. “We need a new one.”

Lena added it to the list on her phone, beside milk, onions, coffee, and laundry detergent. While the towels spun, they stripped the bed together. Marcus carried the sheets downstairs, and Lena wiped dust from the bedroom fan.

Before leaving, they sorted the mail at the kitchen table. Lena paid the electric bill online while Marcus tore up a credit-card offer and set aside a wedding invitation for the refrigerator.

Their first stop was the hardware store. Marcus found the correct braided hose, and Lena picked up felt pads for the dining chairs, which had begun scratching the floor. Then they drove to the supermarket, where the parking lot was crowded with families and carts.

Inside, Lena chose produce while Marcus compared prices on chicken. They met near the dairy case, each holding something not on the list: Lena had a bag of oranges, and Marcus had tortilla chips.

“Fair trade,” he said.

They bought ingredients for chili, lunches for the workweek, and a frozen pizza for dinner. At checkout, Marcus loaded the belt while Lena opened the store app for coupons. He bagged the groceries, keeping the eggs separate.

Back home, they put everything away before either could sit down. Lena moved the towels to the dryer, and Marcus replaced the hose under the sink. When he turned the water back on, they both watched the connection for a full minute.

“No drip,” Lena said.

Marcus stood and stretched. “Pizza?”

She nodded. While the oven heated, they fitted the felt pads onto the chairs, then sat at the table with cold sodas, satisfied that the house was, for the moment, in order.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping unevenly in the laundry room. She found her husband, Marcus, kneeling beside it with a screwdriver in one hand and a damp towel in the other.

“It’s not broken,” he said. “The load was unbalanced.”

Elena looked at the pile of wet sheets on the floor. “That’s exactly what a broken washing machine would want us to think.”

Together, they redistributed the sheets and started the cycle again. While Marcus wiped up the water, Elena made coffee and wrote a grocery list on the back of an envelope. They checked the refrigerator, debating whether they needed mustard and agreeing that the spinach had become unsalvageable.

By ten, they were in the car. Their first stop was the post office, where Elena mailed a birthday package to her sister. Marcus waited in line for stamps, then met her outside. Afterward, they drove to a hardware store for lightbulbs and a replacement air filter. Marcus compared filter sizes while Elena searched their email for the receipt from the last time they had bought one.

At the supermarket, Elena pushed the cart and Marcus read from the list. They picked up chicken, rice, yogurt, coffee, apples, and vegetables. Marcus added tortilla chips; Elena added salsa without comment. In the freezer aisle, they discussed dinner and settled on making soup, since the weather had turned cold.

The checkout line was long, so Marcus returned a leaking carton of milk while Elena unloaded the cart. Back home, they carried the bags in together. Marcus put away the pantry items while Elena washed produce and cleared old leftovers from the refrigerator.

By early afternoon, the sheets were finally spinning normally. Elena replaced the air filter while Marcus changed the kitchen lightbulb. Then they stood in the brighter kitchen, tired but satisfied.

“Lunch?” Marcus asked.

Elena opened the chips. “We already bought it.”


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping unevenly in the laundry room. She found her husband, Marcus, crouched beside it, holding a damp towel.

“I think the sheets are all on one side,” he said.

Together they redistributed the load, then stood listening until the machine settled into a steady hum. Elena started coffee while Marcus made scrambled eggs and toast. Over breakfast, they wrote a list of errands on the back of an envelope: groceries, pharmacy, dry cleaning, and a new air filter for the furnace.

They left their townhouse just after ten. Elena drove, and Marcus checked the grocery store app for coupons. Their first stop was the pharmacy, where Elena picked up a prescription while Marcus browsed the greeting cards and chose one for his sister’s birthday.

At the supermarket, they divided the list. Elena went to produce for apples, spinach, and onions. Marcus picked up chicken, rice, and canned tomatoes. They met near the dairy case, where they debated whether they needed milk.

“There’s maybe half a cup left,” Marcus said.

“That’s not enough for the week,” Elena replied, placing a carton in the cart.

At checkout, Marcus unloaded the groceries while Elena packed them into reusable bags. They stopped at the hardware store next, but the first air filter Marcus grabbed was the wrong size. Elena pulled up a photo she had taken of the old filter’s label, saving them a return trip.

Back home, they carried the bags inside in two trips. Marcus changed the furnace filter and moved the laundry to the dryer. Elena put away the groceries and chopped vegetables for soup. Then they switched tasks: she folded the dry clothes while he stirred the pot and added seasoning.

By midafternoon, the errands were finished. They ate soup at the kitchen table, surrounded by clean laundry and the faint smell of detergent. Nothing about the day had been exciting, but the house felt orderly again, and both of them were glad to be home.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping unevenly in the basement. She found her husband, Marcus, standing beside it with a basket of towels.

“I think it’s trying to escape,” he said.

Elena opened the lid and rearranged the load. The machine settled into a steady hum. While Marcus moved the towels to the dryer, she gathered empty shampoo bottles and old receipts from the bathroom. They had made a list the night before: groceries, lightbulbs, laundry detergent, and a replacement filter for the furnace.

After breakfast, Marcus checked the filter size while Elena cleared leftovers from the refrigerator. They debated whether a container of rice was still good, then decided not to risk it.

Their first stop was the hardware store. Marcus compared furnace filters while Elena found LED bulbs for the kitchen. At the register, she reminded him they also needed batteries for the smoke detector. He went back for them while she paid.

The supermarket parking lot was crowded. Marcus pushed the cart, and Elena read from the list. They bought chicken, rice, spinach, apples, coffee, and milk. Marcus chose tomatoes while Elena checked the price of olive oil. In the frozen aisle, they disagreed briefly about pizza.

“We already have dinner planned,” Elena said.

“For tonight,” Marcus replied, putting one in the cart. “This is for an emergency.”

At home, they carried the bags in together. Elena put away the produce and started marinating the chicken. Marcus replaced the furnace filter, then climbed onto a chair to change the kitchen bulbs. One flickered before glowing steadily.

By midafternoon, the laundry was folded, the smoke detector had fresh batteries, and dinner was ready for later. They sat at the table with coffee, tired but satisfied.

“We forgot paper towels,” Elena said.

Marcus looked toward the door.

“Next Saturday,” he said.


By nine on Saturday morning, Elena had started the first load of laundry, and her husband, Marcus, was kneeling beside the kitchen sink with a flashlight. The drain had been slow all week.

“I think it’s just the trap,” he said.

Elena added detergent to the washing machine. “That’s what you said before you took apart the bathroom faucet.”

Marcus looked up. “And the faucet works now.”

“It works differently.”

They both laughed. While Marcus cleared a clump of onion skins from the pipe, Elena sorted the mail at the dining table. She set aside the electric bill, recycled two catalogs, and added a dentist appointment card to the calendar.

Around eleven, they made a grocery list. Marcus checked the refrigerator while Elena looked through the pantry.

“We need milk,” he called.

“And rice.”

“Coffee?”

Elena shook the nearly empty bag. “Definitely.”

They drove to the supermarket in their Maryland suburb, stopping first at the gas station. Elena filled the tank while Marcus cleaned the windshield with the long-handled squeegee. At the grocery store, they divided the list. Elena chose vegetables and compared prices on chicken thighs. Marcus picked up cereal, coffee, and the wrong kind of yogurt.

“Plain, not vanilla,” Elena said when they met near the eggs.

Marcus examined the container. “Vanilla is almost plain.”

“It is not.”

He returned it without arguing.

At checkout, they realized they had forgotten dish soap, so Elena hurried back while Marcus unloaded the cart. They packed the groceries into reusable bags and drove home with the windows cracked.

Back at the house, Marcus carried everything inside, and Elena put away the cold items. Then they switched: she moved the laundry to the dryer while he arranged cans in the pantry.

By two, the sink drained properly, the refrigerator was full, and clean towels tumbled behind the laundry-room door. They ate sandwiches at the kitchen counter, discussing whether to mow the lawn that afternoon.

Marcus glanced outside at the bright sun.

“Tomorrow,” they said at the same time.


On Saturday morning, Elena opened the refrigerator and found half a carton of eggs, a jar of mustard, and a container of rice from Thursday. She called to her husband, Marcus, who was sorting laundry in the hallway.

“We need groceries,” she said.

Marcus came into the kitchen carrying a basket of towels. He checked the pantry and added coffee, pasta, and canned tomatoes to the list while Elena looked through the weekly store flyer on her phone. They agreed on two dinners and a few lunches, then divided the rest of the morning’s chores.

Elena started the washing machine and wiped down the bathroom sink. Marcus took the recycling to the bins behind their apartment building and replaced a burned-out bulb over the stove. By eleven, they had both worked up an appetite, so they split the last bagel before leaving.

The supermarket was crowded with families and employees restocking shelves. Marcus pushed the cart while Elena compared prices on chicken. When she found a discounted family pack, Marcus suggested freezing half. He went back for freezer bags while she picked out broccoli and onions.

At the dairy case, they debated whether they really needed ice cream. Elena pointed out that it was on sale. Marcus put a carton of chocolate in the cart and said the decision had been made by economics.

They used the self-checkout, packed the groceries into reusable bags, and drove home through light traffic. Back at the apartment, Marcus carried the heavy bags upstairs while Elena brought in the eggs and produce. Together they put everything away, separating the chicken into portions and labeling one for the freezer.

The laundry had finished, so Elena moved it to the dryer while Marcus made sandwiches. They ate at the small kitchen table, reviewing what was left to do. The floors still needed vacuuming, and they had a package to return.

“After lunch,” Marcus said.

Elena nodded, reached for a chip, and reminded him that he had said the same thing about the recycling the week before.


On Saturday morning, Elena opened the refrigerator and found half a carton of eggs, a jar of mustard, and three soft carrots. She called to her husband, Mark, who was sorting laundry in the bedroom.

“We need groceries,” she said.

Mark appeared with an armful of towels. “And detergent. We’re almost out.”

They lived in a two-bedroom apartment outside Columbus, Ohio, close enough to several stores that errands rarely required much planning. After breakfast, Elena made a list while Mark started a load of laundry and gathered the recycling. They carried two paper bags of cans and bottles downstairs, then drove to the supermarket.

Inside, they divided the list. Elena went to produce for lettuce, apples, onions, and cilantro. Mark picked up milk, pasta, coffee, and detergent. They met near the meat counter, where Elena compared prices on chicken thighs while Mark checked their shared grocery app to see what they had bought the week before.

“The family pack is cheaper per pound,” he said.

“Yes, but only if we freeze half.”

“I’ll do that when we get home.”

At checkout, Elena noticed they had forgotten rice. Mark jogged back for it while she unloaded the cart. The total was higher than they expected, so they agreed to skip takeout that evening.

Their next stop was the hardware store for a replacement bathroom lightbulb and felt pads for a wobbly dining chair. Back at the apartment, Mark carried the heavier bags upstairs while Elena brought in the detergent and produce.

They put everything away together. Elena washed the lettuce and chopped onions for dinner. Mark divided the chicken into freezer bags, changed the lightbulb, and moved the laundry to the dryer. Before sitting down, they fixed the chair by pressing new pads onto one uneven leg.

By midafternoon, the refrigerator was full, the towels were clean, and the recycling was gone. Elena made coffee, and Mark opened the windows. They sat at the steady chair, tired but satisfied, and planned nothing else for the rest of the day.


On Saturday morning, Elena opened the refrigerator and found half a carton of eggs, a jar of mustard, and three soft carrots. She called to her husband, Marcus, who was sorting laundry in the bedroom.

“We need groceries,” she said.

Marcus appeared with a basket balanced against his hip. “And detergent. We’re almost out.”

They lived in a townhouse outside Columbus, Ohio, close enough to the supermarket that the drive took ten minutes unless traffic backed up near the highway. Before leaving, Elena started a load of towels while Marcus gathered the recycling and carried it to the bins behind their garage. Then they sat at the kitchen table and made a list: chicken, rice, spinach, coffee, yogurt, detergent, and something easy for dinner.

At the store, Marcus pushed the cart while Elena compared prices on coffee. He reminded her they still had pasta at home, and she suggested buying a jar of sauce and a loaf of garlic bread. In the produce section, Marcus chose apples and checked each one for bruises. Elena picked up avocados, then put them back after seeing the price.

They split up briefly. Marcus went for laundry detergent and paper towels while Elena found yogurt and frozen vegetables. They met near the checkout, where Marcus added a bag of tortilla chips to the cart.

“Not on the list,” Elena said.

“Neither was the ice cream,” he replied, pointing to the pint under the spinach.

They kept both.

On the way home, they stopped at a gas station. Elena filled the tank while Marcus cleaned fast-food receipts and an empty water bottle from the car. Back at the townhouse, they carried the bags inside in two trips. Marcus put away the pantry items, and Elena arranged the produce in the refrigerator.

By early afternoon, the towels were dry, the recycling was gone, and dinner was decided. They made sandwiches, divided the last of the chips between two plates, and sat at the kitchen table, pleased that nothing else needed doing right away.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping unevenly in the basement. She found her husband, Marcus, standing beside it with a basket of towels.

“I forgot to spread them out,” he said, lifting the lid and rearranging the load.

Upstairs, Elena made coffee while Marcus gathered the recycling. They had lived in their Ohio townhouse for three years, long enough to develop a weekend routine but not long enough to follow it perfectly. Over breakfast, Elena wrote a grocery list, and Marcus checked the refrigerator.

“We need eggs,” he called.

“And dish soap,” she replied. “The kind that doesn’t smell like artificial lemons.”

Before leaving, they stopped at the post office to mail a birthday package to Marcus’s sister. Elena waited in line while Marcus filled out the address label he had forgotten to complete at home. Afterward, they drove to the supermarket, discussing whether the car needed new tires before winter.

At the store, Marcus pushed the cart while Elena compared prices on canned tomatoes. They split up briefly: he went for milk and cereal, and she chose vegetables and chicken for dinner. When they met near the frozen foods, Marcus had added ice cream.

“That wasn’t on the list,” Elena said.

“It’s Saturday,” he answered, placing it beneath the spinach.

At checkout, Elena loaded the belt while Marcus bagged the groceries, keeping the bread separate from the heavier items. They carried everything to the car and returned home just before noon.

Marcus put away the pantry items while Elena washed the produce. Then they moved the towels to the dryer and folded the clean clothes from an earlier load at the kitchen table.

By one o’clock, the errands were finished. Elena reheated leftover soup, and Marcus made grilled cheese sandwiches. They ate by the window, looking at the grocery receipt and agreeing they had spent too much.

Neither of them mentioned the ice cream.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping against the hallway wall. She found her husband, Marcus, kneeling beside it with a level in one hand.

“I think the front foot is uneven,” he said.

“I think you put all the towels on one side,” Elena replied.

They redistributed the load, started the machine again, and stood listening until it settled into a steady hum. Then Elena made coffee while Marcus wrote a list of errands on the back of an envelope: groceries, dry cleaning, lightbulbs, and a return at the hardware store.

By ten, they were in the car. Elena drove while Marcus checked the grocery store’s weekly specials on his phone. At the dry cleaner, he carried in two winter coats, and she waited by the counter to confirm they could be ready before an upcoming trip.

The grocery store was crowded. Marcus pushed the cart and chose vegetables while Elena compared prices on chicken. They debated whether they already had rice at home.

“We have some,” Marcus said.

“We have half a cup,” Elena answered, putting a bag in the cart.

They split up briefly—Marcus went for milk and cereal while Elena picked up detergent and toothpaste. At checkout, they realized they had forgotten eggs, so Marcus hurried back while Elena unloaded the cart onto the belt.

Afterward, they stopped at the hardware store. Elena returned an unopened faucet part, and Marcus found LED bulbs for the kitchen. Back home, they carried the groceries in together, making two trips from the parking lot. Elena put away the refrigerated items while Marcus replaced the burned-out bulb over the sink.

By early afternoon, the towels were dry, the refrigerator was full, and the kitchen light worked again. They ate sandwiches at the table, tired but satisfied.

“What’s next?” Marcus asked.

Elena looked at the envelope. “Nothing until tomorrow.”

He folded the list in half and dropped it into the recycling.


On Saturday morning, Elena found Marcus in the hallway, kneeling beside the vacuum cleaner with a screwdriver in his hand.

“It’s not broken,” he said. “The belt just slipped.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

“And I’m still technically correct.”

Elena laughed and carried a basket of laundry toward the bedroom. They lived in a two-bedroom apartment outside Columbus, Ohio, where Saturdays tended to disappear into small chores. While Marcus worked on the vacuum, Elena changed the sheets and sorted the laundry. Then they switched: he took two loads downstairs to the shared laundry room, and she wiped the kitchen counters and made a grocery list.

By eleven, they had run out of excuses to postpone shopping. Marcus drove, while Elena read the list aloud at stoplights: milk, rice, onions, coffee, chicken, dish soap, and something for lunch.

At the supermarket, they divided the work without discussing it. Elena headed toward produce, comparing bags of spinach and rejecting two bruised tomatoes. Marcus picked up coffee and cereal, then spent several minutes studying the price per ounce on different jars of peanut butter.

“Store brand,” Elena said when she found him.

“It’s thirty cents cheaper.”

“Then why are you still standing here?”

He put it in the cart.

They bought more than they had planned—frozen pizza, a bunch of yellow tulips, and a box of cookies that Marcus claimed was “for guests.” At checkout, Elena unloaded the cart while Marcus bagged the groceries, keeping the eggs and bread separate.

Back home, they carried everything upstairs in two trips. Elena put away the refrigerated food, and Marcus arranged the pantry items, moving three old cans of beans to the front.

After lunch, they folded the clean laundry at the dining table. The repaired vacuum stood nearby, ready for its test.

“You first,” Elena said.

Marcus plugged it in. The machine started with a steady hum, and both of them smiled as if they had accomplished something much larger than an ordinary Saturday.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping unevenly in the basement. She found her husband, Marcus, standing beside it with a mug of coffee, watching the machine wobble.

“I forgot to spread out the towels,” he said.

Together they paused the cycle and rearranged the load. Elena carried a basket of clean clothes upstairs while Marcus wiped detergent from the shelf. They had no special plans for the day, only a list on the refrigerator: groceries, pharmacy, recycling, lightbulbs.

After breakfast, Elena checked the pantry and added rice and canned tomatoes to the grocery list. Marcus opened the refrigerator and sniffed a carton of milk.

“Still good,” he said.

“Then don’t put it on the list.”

They loaded two bags of bottles and cardboard into their car and drove to the county recycling center. Marcus sorted the glass by color while Elena flattened a stubborn box that had once held a vacuum cleaner. From there, they stopped at the pharmacy, where Elena picked up a prescription and Marcus bought toothpaste.

The supermarket was crowded with families and employees restocking shelves. Elena pushed the cart while Marcus compared prices on coffee. They chose chicken thighs for dinner, spinach, apples, bread, yogurt, and a frozen pizza for a busier night. In the cereal aisle, Marcus reached for a sugary brand he liked.

“We already have cereal,” Elena reminded him.

“We have your cereal.”

She laughed and made room in the cart.

Back home, Marcus carried in the heavier bags while Elena put away the refrigerated items. He changed the burned-out bulb above the kitchen sink, and she started chopping onions for dinner. The laundry had finished, so they folded it at the dining table, matching socks between tasks.

By late afternoon, the errands were done. Marcus turned on the radio, Elena opened a window, and they cooked together while the neighborhood settled into an ordinary Saturday evening.


By nine on Saturday morning, Elena had started the laundry, and her husband, Mark, was kneeling beneath the kitchen sink with a flashlight. A slow drip had filled the plastic bowl they kept under the pipes.

“I think it’s just the connection,” he said, tightening a fitting with a wrench.

Elena leaned against the counter, holding two mugs of coffee. “That’s what you said last month.”

“This time I mean it.”

They lived in a two-bedroom townhouse outside Columbus, Ohio, close enough to a shopping center that most errands could be finished before lunch if they stayed organized. After Mark dried the cabinet and confirmed the drip had stopped, Elena moved the clothes to the dryer. Together they made a list: detergent, lightbulbs, chicken, rice, spinach, yogurt, coffee, and something for dinner.

Their first stop was the post office, where Elena mailed a birthday package to her sister in Arizona. Mark bought stamps and waited beside a display of padded envelopes, checking the grocery store app for digital coupons.

At the supermarket, they divided the work without discussing it. Elena chose produce while Mark compared prices on coffee. They met near the dairy case, where he placed two cartons of yogurt in the cart.

“We still have three at home,” Elena said.

“They expire Monday.”

“Exactly.”

He returned one carton. Later, Elena added a frozen pizza, overruling their plan to cook.

At checkout, Mark bagged while Elena paid. The total was higher than they expected, even after the coupons. In the parking lot, they loaded the trunk and returned the cart together because the wind kept pushing it sideways.

Back home, Mark carried in the heavier bags. Elena put away the cold items, then remembered the laundry. They folded towels at the dining table while the frozen pizza baked.

By early afternoon, the refrigerator was full, the sink was dry, and clean sheets were turning in the dryer. They ate pizza from paper plates, tired but satisfied, and agreed to leave the vacuuming until Sunday.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping unevenly in the basement. She found her husband, Marcus, standing beside it with a mug of coffee, listening as if the machine might explain itself.

“The towels are all on one side,” Elena said.

Marcus paused the cycle and redistributed them. “I knew that.”

“Of course.”

They carried two baskets of clean laundry upstairs, then made a list of errands at the kitchen table. They needed groceries, light bulbs for the hallway, and a padded envelope so Elena could mail a book to her sister. Marcus added coffee filters to the list; Elena added dish soap.

At the hardware store, Marcus compared LED bulbs while Elena found a replacement air filter for the furnace. They disagreed briefly about whether the hallway needed warm or daylight bulbs, then chose warm because they were cheaper in a four-pack.

Next they stopped at the post office. Marcus filled out the address label while Elena slid the book into the envelope and sealed it. The line moved slowly, but they were back in the car within fifteen minutes.

The grocery store was crowded with families and employees restocking shelves. Elena pushed the cart and checked their list while Marcus selected produce. He rejected two bruised avocados before finding three firm ones. Elena chose chicken thighs for dinner and picked up yogurt, rice, spinach, onions, and a box of cereal. Marcus remembered the coffee filters just before they reached the checkout.

At home, they unpacked together. Elena put away the refrigerated items while Marcus divided the chicken into freezer bags. Afterward, he replaced the hallway bulb, and she folded the last load of towels.

By three o’clock, the errands were finished. They sat on the couch with fresh coffee, surrounded by the quiet satisfaction of a stocked refrigerator, an empty laundry basket, and a hallway light that worked again.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping against the laundry-room wall. She found her husband, Marcus, kneeling beside it with a level in one hand.

“It’s not broken,” he said. “One of the feet is uneven.”

Elena leaned against the doorway, holding two mugs of coffee. “That’s what you said about the dishwasher.”

“The dishwasher really was broken.”

They drank their coffee while Marcus adjusted the machine. Then Elena sorted the clean clothes, checking pockets and setting aside a shirt with a loose button. Marcus carried a basket upstairs and changed the sheets while she started another load.

By eleven, they had made a list of errands. Elena needed stamps and shampoo; Marcus wanted lightbulbs for the kitchen. They drove to the post office first, then stopped at a hardware store. Marcus compared bulb prices while Elena found a small packet of picture hooks they had been meaning to buy.

At the grocery store, they divided the list. Elena picked out vegetables, bread, and yogurt. Marcus went to the meat counter and found chicken thighs on sale. They met near the cereal aisle, where he had added tortilla chips to the cart.

“Those weren’t on the list,” Elena said.

“Neither were the cookies,” he replied, pointing to the package under the lettuce.

They kept both.

Back home, Marcus carried in the bags while Elena cleared old leftovers from the refrigerator. Together they put everything away, discussing what to cook during the week. Elena suggested chicken tacos for Monday, and Marcus wrote it on the magnetic calendar.

Before lunch, they replaced the kitchen bulbs and hung a framed photograph in the hallway. The frame tilted slightly. Elena adjusted it, stepped back, and shook her head.

“Still crooked.”

Marcus moved it a fraction to the left.

“Good enough?”

She smiled. “Good enough.”

They ate sandwiches at the kitchen table while the dryer hummed down the hall, and afterward they folded the last load together.


On Saturday morning, Elena opened the refrigerator and found half a carton of eggs, a jar of mustard, and three soft carrots. She called to her husband, Marcus, who was sorting laundry in the bedroom.

“We need groceries,” she said.

Marcus appeared with an armful of towels. “And detergent. We’re almost out.”

They lived in a small townhouse outside Columbus, Ohio, and weekends often became a negotiation between chores and rest. Elena started a list while Marcus carried the laundry downstairs. He ran one load and gathered the recycling; she wiped the kitchen counters and checked the bathroom cabinet for anything else they needed.

By eleven, they were in the car. Their first stop was the post office, where Marcus mailed a birthday package to his sister. Elena waited outside, answering a text from their neighbor about returning a borrowed ladder. Afterward, they drove to the grocery store.

Inside, Marcus pushed the cart while Elena compared prices on chicken. They had agreed to cook more meals at home, so they chose ingredients for tacos, pasta, and a vegetable soup. Marcus picked out onions and potatoes, rejecting one bruised potato with exaggerated seriousness. Elena added coffee, yogurt, and a bag of apples. At the cleaning aisle, Marcus remembered the detergent but nearly forgot trash bags until Elena pointed to the list.

The checkout total was higher than they expected. In the parking lot, they reviewed the receipt and discovered the coffee had not received the advertised discount. Marcus went back inside while Elena loaded the bags into the trunk. He returned five minutes later with four dollars in cash and a satisfied smile.

At home, they put everything away together. Elena chopped vegetables for lunch while Marcus moved the laundry to the dryer and took the recycling bin to the curb. By midafternoon, the errands were finished.

They ate grilled cheese sandwiches at the kitchen table, tired but pleased. Marcus suggested watching a movie. Elena agreed, as long as he folded the towels during it.


On Saturday morning, Lena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping unevenly in the basement. Her husband, Marcus, was already downstairs, shifting damp towels around the drum.

“One of these is trying to escape,” he called.

Lena carried down the laundry basket and helped him redistribute the load. While the washer restarted, Marcus gathered empty detergent bottles for recycling, and Lena made a list on her phone: milk, onions, rice, coffee, chicken, spinach, and cat litter.

After breakfast, they drove to the supermarket. The parking lot was crowded, and Marcus waited behind a minivan while Lena pointed out an open space two rows over. Inside, they divided the list. Marcus went to produce and compared bags of spinach, rejecting one with wilted leaves. Lena found coffee on sale but texted him a photo because she could not remember which roast he preferred.

“The blue one,” he replied. “And we need dish soap.”

They met near the dairy case. Marcus had added apples and tortilla chips to the cart; Lena had added ice cream. Neither objected. At checkout, they bagged the groceries together, placing the eggs and bread on top.

Back home, Lena put away the refrigerated items while Marcus portioned the chicken for the freezer. Then they carried old newspapers, bottles, and cardboard to the recycling bins behind their townhouse. A light rain had started, so they hurried.

Their last task was replacing a burned-out bulb over the kitchen sink. Marcus held the step stool steady while Lena twisted in the new bulb. When it lit, they both blinked at how bright the kitchen suddenly looked.

By midafternoon, the laundry was folded, groceries were stored, and the cat’s litter box was clean. Marcus made coffee, and Lena opened the ice cream.

“We forgot paper towels,” she said.

Marcus looked toward the rain-streaked window. “Next Saturday.”

They sat at the kitchen table, sharing the carton between them.


On Saturday morning, Elena found Marcus at the kitchen table comparing the grocery list with the supermarket app. He had circled the weekly specials in blue while she drank coffee and checked the refrigerator.

“We still have eggs,” she called.

“Three eggs,” Marcus replied. “That’s not having eggs.”

Elena laughed and added them to the list.

They lived in a two-bedroom apartment outside Columbus, Ohio, and Saturdays were usually reserved for the chores they had postponed during the workweek. Marcus carried two baskets of laundry downstairs while Elena stripped the bed and gathered towels. When the machines were running, they drove to the hardware store to buy furnace filters and a replacement bulb for the hallway fixture.

At the grocery store, Elena pushed the cart while Marcus selected produce. He rejected two bruised apples before choosing a bag, and she compared prices on pasta sauce. They divided the list without discussing it: Marcus went for milk, eggs, and coffee; Elena collected rice, canned beans, and chicken. They met near the frozen foods.

“Did you get detergent?” she asked.

Marcus looked at the cart. “I thought you did.”

They doubled back together.

At checkout, Elena loaded groceries onto the belt while Marcus opened the store’s coupon app. The total was higher than they expected, so they agreed to skip takeout that evening and cook the chicken with roasted vegetables.

Back home, they carried the bags upstairs in two trips. Elena put away the refrigerated items while Marcus changed the furnace filter and replaced the hallway bulb. Then they returned to the laundry room, folded warm towels at a plastic table, and discussed whether to visit his sister the following weekend.

By midafternoon, the bed had clean sheets, the pantry was stocked, and the hallway light worked again. Marcus started dinner preparations while Elena swept the kitchen floor. Nothing about the day had been exciting, but when they finally sat down with fresh coffee, both felt pleasantly ahead of the week.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping off balance. She found her husband, Marcus, crouched beside it, trying to redistribute a load of towels.

“I told you the bath mat makes it uneven,” she said, smiling.

“And yet I remain optimistic,” he replied.

While Marcus restarted the machine, Elena made coffee and wrote a list on the back of an envelope: milk, onions, rice, chicken, cereal, dish soap. Marcus added coffee filters and crossed out cereal, then wrote it again when Elena reminded him they had finished the last box.

They lived in a two-bedroom apartment outside Columbus, Ohio, close enough to the grocery store that the drive took ten minutes. Before leaving, they carried two bags of recycling to the bins behind their building. Marcus broke down a cardboard box while Elena sorted glass bottles from cans.

At the supermarket, they divided the list. Elena went to produce and compared prices on bags of apples. Marcus picked up chicken thighs, rice, and the wrong kind of dish soap. When they met near the dairy case, Elena exchanged it for the unscented brand because the lemon one irritated her hands.

They debated whether to buy frozen pizza. Marcus pointed out it was on sale; Elena noted they already planned to cook. They compromised by buying one for the freezer.

Back home, Marcus carried the heavier bags upstairs while Elena unlocked the door and cleared space on the kitchen counter. Together they put everything away. She washed the apples and started chopping onions for dinner. He transferred the towels to the dryer, then replaced a burned-out bulb over the stove.

By early afternoon, the errands were mostly finished. They sat at the small kitchen table with reheated soup for lunch, listening to the dryer turn.

“We forgot paper towels,” Marcus said.

Elena checked the envelope. They had never written them down.

“Tomorrow,” she said, and he nodded.


By nine on Saturday morning, Elena had started the first load of laundry, and her husband, Marcus, was standing at the kitchen counter sorting the mail into three piles: bills, recycling, and things they might need later.

“Do we really need a coupon for gutter cleaning?” he asked.

Elena carried an empty laundry basket down the hall. “Considering you hate ladders, maybe.”

They lived in a two-bedroom townhouse outside Columbus, Ohio, where their weekends often disappeared into small chores. While Elena changed the sheets, Marcus wiped down the bathroom and replaced a lightbulb over the sink. Then they switched tasks: he moved the laundry to the dryer, and she checked the pantry and made a grocery list.

By eleven, they were in the car. Their first stop was the post office, where Marcus mailed a birthday package to his sister. Elena waited near the entrance, comparing prices for dog food on her phone, though they had agreed not to get a dog until spring.

At the supermarket, Marcus pushed the cart while Elena read from the list. They bought chicken thighs, rice, spinach, coffee, yogurt, and ingredients for chili. Marcus added a bag of tortilla chips.

“Not on the list,” Elena said.

“Essential household supply,” he replied.

She laughed and put salsa in the cart.

The checkout line was long, so Marcus went back for the onions they had forgotten. Elena unloaded the groceries onto the belt and found a digital coupon for the coffee before he returned.

On the way home, they stopped for gas. Marcus filled the tank while Elena cleaned old receipts and two empty water bottles from the car.

Back at the townhouse, they carried the bags inside together. Elena put away the refrigerated items while Marcus divided the chicken into freezer bags. The dryer buzzed, and neither moved immediately.

“Lunch first?” Marcus asked.

Elena opened the chips. “Definitely.”

They ate sandwiches at the kitchen table, surrounded by grocery bags and folded mail, with the rest of Saturday still ahead of them.


On Saturday morning, Elena and Marcus stood in their kitchen comparing the grocery list to the nearly empty refrigerator. They had lived in their Ohio townhouse for three years, long enough to know that errands went faster if they divided the work.

Marcus gathered the recycling and carried two bins to the garage while Elena started a load of towels. When he came back, he found her wiping crumbs from the counter and adding dish soap to the list.

“We’re almost out of coffee,” he said, checking the cabinet.

Elena wrote it down. “Then we’d better not forget it.”

They drove to the supermarket just before noon. The parking lot was crowded, and Marcus waited while a family loaded bags into their SUV. Inside, Elena pushed the cart while Marcus read from the list. They compared prices on chicken, chose apples that were on sale, and debated whether they needed a large bag of rice.

“We’ll use it,” Marcus said.

“You said that about the lentils,” Elena replied, but she put the rice in the cart anyway.

At the checkout, Elena noticed they had forgotten laundry detergent. Marcus jogged back to the cleaning aisle and returned just as the cashier finished scanning the produce.

On the way home, they stopped at the pharmacy so Elena could pick up a prescription. Marcus stayed in the car and answered a text from his sister about Sunday dinner.

Back at the townhouse, they carried the groceries inside together. Elena put away the refrigerated items while Marcus divided the chicken into freezer bags. Then he moved the towels to the dryer, and she broke down the cardboard packaging for recycling.

By midafternoon, the errands were done. They made sandwiches and sat at the kitchen table, tired but satisfied. Marcus poured them each a cup of the coffee they had nearly forgotten.

Elena took a sip and looked around the clean kitchen. “Not a bad Saturday.”

Marcus smiled. “And we still have half of it left.”


On Saturday morning, Elena found Marcus at the kitchen table comparing the grocery list with a supermarket coupon booklet. They had been married for six years and lived in a two-bedroom apartment outside Columbus, Ohio.

“We’re out of coffee,” Marcus said, circling an item.

“And laundry detergent,” Elena added. She opened the refrigerator and checked the vegetable drawer. “Carrots, too.”

Before leaving, they divided the chores. Marcus carried two baskets of laundry downstairs while Elena stripped the bed and gathered the towels. The building’s laundry room was empty except for a row of humming dryers. They started two loads, then returned upstairs to wash the breakfast dishes and take out the recycling.

By eleven, they drove to the grocery store. Elena pushed the cart while Marcus read from the list. They compared prices on chicken breasts, chose a family-sized package, and decided to freeze half. In the produce section, Marcus selected apples while Elena picked through bunches of cilantro.

“Do we really need ice cream?” he asked when she placed a carton in the cart.

“No,” she said. “That’s why it’s a good idea.”

At checkout, Marcus bagged the groceries while Elena paid. The total was higher than they expected, so they studied the receipt in the parking lot. Eggs and olive oil had cost more than usual, but there were no mistakes.

On the way home, they stopped at the hardware store for lightbulbs and a replacement filter for the furnace. Back at the apartment, Elena put away the groceries while Marcus transferred the laundry to the dryers. Then they worked together to make the bed, fold the towels, and replace the burnt-out bulb above the hallway closet.

By midafternoon, the errands were finished. Marcus brewed fresh coffee, and Elena opened the ice cream. They sat on the couch with the windows cracked, tired but satisfied, while the dishwasher ran in the kitchen and clean sheets turned slowly in the dryer downstairs.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping in the basement. She found her husband, Marcus, in the kitchen, studying the grocery list while the coffee brewed.

“I started the towels,” he said. “But I think one of them is trying to escape.”

Elena laughed and went downstairs to redistribute the lopsided load. By the time she returned, Marcus had scrambled eggs and added dish soap, coffee filters, and lightbulbs to the list. Elena checked the refrigerator and wrote down yogurt, spinach, and milk.

They left their townhouse just before ten. Marcus drove while Elena answered a text from their neighbor, who wanted to borrow a ladder. Their first stop was the post office, where Elena mailed a birthday package to her sister. Marcus waited in line at the counter to buy stamps.

At the supermarket, they split up. Elena chose produce and compared prices on apples, while Marcus picked up chicken, rice, and canned tomatoes. They met near the dairy case.

“Did you get bread?” Elena asked.

“I thought you were getting bread.”

They looked at each other, then Marcus turned his cart around.

At checkout, Elena noticed the cashier had scanned the yogurt twice. She politely pointed it out while Marcus packed the reusable bags, keeping the eggs and bananas on top. The total was higher than they expected, so in the parking lot they reviewed the receipt and agreed to skip takeout that evening.

Back home, they carried the groceries inside together. Marcus put away the pantry items while Elena washed the produce. Then she moved the towels to the dryer, and he replaced the burned-out bulb above the stove.

By early afternoon, the errands were finished. Elena made sandwiches, and Marcus brought the ladder next door. When he returned, they ate at the kitchen table with the window open, listening to a lawn mower somewhere down the block and deciding what movie to watch that night.


On Saturday morning, Daniel woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping against the laundry-room wall. He found his wife, Marisol, kneeling beside it, sorting a pile of towels.

“You put the bath mat in with everything else, didn’t you?” she asked.

Daniel glanced at the machine. “Maybe.”

Together they paused the cycle and redistributed the load. The machine resumed with a quieter hum. While Marisol folded the dry clothes, Daniel stripped the bed and carried the sheets downstairs. They discussed the day’s errands: groceries, the pharmacy, and a stop at the hardware store for furnace filters.

By ten, they were driving across town in their dusty sedan. Marisol read the grocery list from her phone while Daniel added items he had forgotten to mention—coffee, sandwich bags, and something for Sunday dinner. At the supermarket, they split up. Daniel went to produce and compared prices on apples, while Marisol found chicken thighs and checked the expiration dates on yogurt.

They met near the cereal aisle. Daniel had brought the wrong kind of rice, so Marisol exchanged it while he searched for the store-brand coffee. At checkout, they used two coupons and packed the bags themselves, putting frozen food together so it would stay cold.

Next, Marisol picked up a prescription while Daniel walked to the hardware store in the same shopping center. He returned carrying filters and a small box of lightbulbs.

Back home, they unloaded the car in two trips. Marisol put away the groceries, and Daniel replaced the furnace filter, writing the date on its cardboard edge. Then they made sandwiches and ate at the kitchen counter.

The washing machine beeped again. Daniel moved the sheets to the dryer while Marisol started a pot of soup for dinner. By midafternoon, the errands were finished. They sat on the couch with coffee, tired but satisfied, listening to the dryer turn steadily in the next room.


On Saturday morning, Elena found Marcus in the hallway, crouched beside the vacuum cleaner with its cord tangled around one wheel.

“It’s making that noise again,” he said.

“The burning smell noise?”

“The expensive noise.”

They had lived in their Ohio townhouse for three years, long enough to know which appliances were unreliable and which errands could not be postponed. Elena added vacuum belts to the list on her phone while Marcus carried a basket of laundry downstairs.

By ten, they had changed the sheets, started two loads of laundry, and gathered a bag of old clothes for the donation bin. Elena wiped down the kitchen counters while Marcus took out the recycling and replaced the porch lightbulb. Then they drove to the hardware store, where they spent twelve minutes comparing vacuum belts before realizing their model number was printed on a photo Elena had taken.

Their next stop was the supermarket. Marcus pushed the cart while Elena checked the list. They chose chicken thighs for dinner, spinach, onions, yogurt, coffee, and a loaf of bread. Marcus inspected avocados with exaggerated seriousness.

“That one won’t be ready until Tuesday,” Elena said.

“I’m planning ahead.”

In the cereal aisle, they debated whether the larger box was actually cheaper. Elena used the calculator on her phone; Marcus conceded and put back the smaller one. At checkout, he bagged the groceries while she watched the total climb higher than either expected.

Back home, they worked without discussing who should do what. Marcus put away the frozen food and started the chicken in a marinade. Elena moved the laundry to the dryer, then labeled leftovers in the refrigerator before making room for the new groceries.

By midafternoon, the vacuum was running normally. Marcus cleaned the living room while Elena folded towels on the couch. When he finished, they sat beside the warm stack of laundry and shared an apple.

“We forgot dish soap,” Elena said.

Marcus sighed and reached for his shoes. “Convenience store?”

She stood too. “I’ll drive.”


By nine on Saturday morning, Elena had started the laundry, and her husband, Marcus, was kneeling beneath the kitchen sink with a flashlight between his teeth. A slow leak had left the cabinet floor damp.

“Can you hand me the wrench?” he asked.

Elena passed it to him, then added detergent to the shopping list on her phone. “And we need paper towels. You used the last roll cleaning this up.”

Marcus tightened the loose connection and wiped the pipe with an old dishcloth. They waited a minute. No new drops appeared.

After moving the clothes to the dryer, they drove to the supermarket. The parking lot was crowded, and Marcus circled twice before finding a space beside the cart return. Inside, Elena chose vegetables while Marcus compared prices on chicken. They discussed dinners for the week and settled on tacos, pasta, and soup. Elena picked up coffee, milk, and cereal; Marcus found detergent, paper towels, and a box of lightbulbs.

At the checkout, Elena noticed they had forgotten onions. Marcus jogged back to produce while she unloaded the cart. He returned just before the cashier finished scanning their groceries.

On the way home, they stopped at the post office kiosk so Elena could mail a birthday card to her sister. Marcus stayed in the car and ordered replacement filters for the furnace on his phone.

Back at the house, they carried the bags in together. Marcus put away the pantry items while Elena arranged produce in the refrigerator. Then they folded the warm laundry at the dining table, matching socks and making separate piles.

By early afternoon, the errands were done. Elena replaced the burned-out bulb in the hallway while Marcus checked the sink once more. It was dry.

They heated leftover soup for lunch and sat by the window. Outside, a neighbor pushed a mower across his lawn.

“Anything else on the list?” Marcus asked.

Elena checked her phone, then set it facedown. “Not today.”

For the first time all morning, neither of them got up.


On Saturday morning, Elena and Marcus made a list at the kitchen table. They were nearly out of coffee, dish soap, and anything that could become dinner without considerable imagination. Marcus checked the refrigerator while Elena searched the pantry.

“We have three cans of beans,” he said.

“And no rice,” Elena replied, adding it to the list.

Before leaving, they carried laundry to the basement of their duplex. Elena started the washer while Marcus replaced the burned-out bulb above the utility sink. Then they gathered the library books from the living room and loaded everything into their car.

Their first stop was the public library. Marcus returned a mystery novel, and Elena picked up a cookbook she had reserved. Next, they drove to a hardware store for furnace filters and batteries. Marcus compared filter sizes on his phone while Elena found a small tube of caulk for the bathroom window.

At the supermarket, they divided the list. Elena chose produce and bread while Marcus went for milk, eggs, and canned tomatoes. They met near the meat counter, where they debated whether to buy chicken thighs or ground turkey. Chicken was on sale, so they chose that and planned to roast it with potatoes.

At the checkout, Elena noticed they had forgotten coffee. Marcus jogged back to get it while she unloaded the cart. Their total was higher than expected, and in the parking lot they reviewed the receipt. The olive oil had cost more than either remembered, but everything was correct.

Back home, Marcus carried in the heavier bags while Elena moved the laundry to the dryer. Together they put away the groceries, wiped out a sticky refrigerator drawer, and threw away an old container of leftovers.

By midafternoon, the errands were finished. Marcus changed the furnace filter, and Elena sealed the drafty window. Then they made sandwiches, sat at the kitchen table, and discussed whether they had enough energy to vacuum. They decided they did not.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping unevenly in the basement. She found her husband, Marcus, standing beside it with a basket of towels.

“I think it’s trying to escape,” he said.

Elena lifted the lid and rearranged the load. The machine settled into a steady hum. While Marcus transferred the previous load to the dryer, she carried a bag of recycling out to their car. They had been meaning to drop it off all week.

After breakfast, they made a list at the kitchen table. Elena checked the refrigerator while Marcus searched the pantry.

“We’re out of rice,” he called.

“And nearly out of coffee,” she said, adding both to the list. They also needed milk, spinach, chicken, dish soap, and something for Sunday breakfast.

Their first stop was the recycling center behind the public works building. Marcus sorted cardboard while Elena emptied glass jars into the appropriate bin. From there, they drove to a hardware store to buy furnace filters. Marcus compared sizes on his phone, and Elena found a package that matched the model number.

At the grocery store, they split up to save time. Elena chose produce and checked the price of strawberries before deciding on apples instead. Marcus picked up chicken thighs, rice, and coffee, then returned to the dairy aisle when he realized he had forgotten milk. They met near the registers with two extra items: tortilla chips from Marcus and a small basil plant from Elena.

Back home, Marcus put away the groceries while Elena wiped down the refrigerator shelves. They debated where to place the basil and settled on the sunny kitchen windowsill. Then they folded the towels together in the living room, matching corners and stacking them on the coffee table.

By midafternoon, the errands were finished. Marcus made coffee, Elena opened the chips, and they sat on the back steps, pleased that the rest of Saturday was still theirs.


By nine on Saturday morning, Elena had started a load of towels, and her husband, Marcus, was kneeling beside the kitchen sink with a flashlight. The faucet had been dripping all week.

“It’s the cartridge,” he said, leaning back on his heels.

Elena added “faucet cartridge” to the list on her phone. “Then the hardware store comes before groceries.”

They lived in a two-bedroom townhouse outside Columbus, Ohio, close enough to several shopping centers that errands could be combined into one loop. Before leaving, Marcus moved the towels to the dryer while Elena gathered reusable bags from the coat closet. He drove, and she checked their list at red lights.

At the hardware store, they spent ten minutes comparing nearly identical plumbing parts. Marcus found the model number on the manufacturer’s website, and Elena matched it to a package on the shelf. They also bought lightbulbs for the hallway and felt pads for the dining chairs.

Next they stopped at the grocery store. Elena chose vegetables and checked the berries for mold while Marcus picked up chicken, rice, and coffee. In the cereal aisle, they debated whether the larger box was actually cheaper. Marcus calculated the unit price, and Elena put it in the cart.

They divided the rest of the list. Marcus went for milk and eggs while Elena found detergent and cat litter. They met near the registers, where Marcus remembered they were out of aluminum foil.

Back home, Elena put away the cold food as Marcus carried in the heavier bags. She set aside chicken for dinner and washed the lettuce. Marcus replaced the faucet cartridge, then called her into the kitchen while he tested it.

No drip.

Elena turned off the dryer and began folding towels at the table. Marcus joined her after sweeping up the bits of packaging from under the sink. By early afternoon, the groceries were stored, the faucet was quiet, and the hallway had a working bulb again.

They ate sandwiches for lunch, comparing what still needed to be done with what could reasonably wait until Sunday.


On Saturday morning, Elena opened the refrigerator and found half a carton of eggs, an aging lemon, and three different jars of mustard. She called to her husband, Marcus, who was sorting laundry in the bedroom.

“We need groceries,” she said.

“We also need detergent,” he called back. “And lightbulbs. The hallway one finally died.”

They made a list at the kitchen table. Elena checked the pantry while Marcus looked under the bathroom sink. He added toothpaste and trash bags; she added rice, chicken, spinach, coffee, and cereal. Before leaving, they started a load of towels. Marcus measured the detergent while Elena gathered the reusable bags from the coat closet.

Their first stop was the post office, where Elena mailed a birthday package to her sister in Arizona. Marcus waited beside her, comparing prices for replacement air filters on his phone. Afterward, they drove to a hardware store and found the right lightbulbs, though it took both of them several minutes to agree on “soft white” instead of “daylight.”

At the supermarket, Marcus pushed the cart while Elena checked the list. He chose tomatoes and avocados, and she picked out apples. In the meat aisle, they compared prices and decided to buy chicken thighs instead of breasts. Marcus remembered they were almost out of hot sauce; Elena remembered that his parents were coming for dinner on Sunday and added another bag of rice.

The checkout line was long, so they discussed what to cook that evening. They settled on tacos because they already had tortillas at home.

Back at the house, Marcus carried in the heavier bags while Elena cleared space on the counter. They put everything away together, occasionally asking where something belonged even though they had lived there for four years.

The washing machine beeped. Elena moved the towels to the dryer while Marcus replaced the hallway bulb. When the light came on, they stood beneath it for a moment.

“Too bright?” he asked.

Elena considered the hallway. “No. It’s fine.”

Then they started chopping onions for dinner.


By nine on Saturday morning, Elena had started the laundry, and her husband, Marcus, was crouched beneath the kitchen sink with a flashlight. A slow leak had dampened the cabinet floor overnight.

“The pipe looks fine,” he said. “I think it’s the seal.”

Elena added plumber’s tape to the shopping list on her phone, then carried a basket of towels upstairs. While the washer ran, Marcus wiped out the cabinet and set a bowl beneath the drain, just in case.

They left their townhouse outside Columbus a little after ten. Their first stop was the post office, where Elena mailed a birthday package to her sister in Arizona. Marcus waited beside her, sorting through the envelopes they had brought from home and tossing two grocery flyers into the recycling bin near the door.

At the hardware store, they found the tape and a replacement washer for the pipe. Elena also picked up batteries for the smoke detector in the hallway. Marcus remembered they were nearly out of furnace filters, so they added a three-pack to the cart.

The grocery store was crowded. Elena steered the cart while Marcus read from their shared list: eggs, rice, yogurt, onions, chicken, coffee. They compared prices on olive oil and chose the store brand. In the produce section, Marcus selected apples while Elena checked a bag of spinach for wilted leaves. They disagreed briefly over dinner—tacos or soup—then settled on tacos Saturday and soup Sunday, buying ingredients for both.

Back home, Marcus replaced the seal under the sink. Elena put away the groceries, portioned the chicken for the freezer, and moved the towels to the dryer. When Marcus turned on the faucet, they both watched the pipe.

No drip appeared.

“Good enough for a Saturday,” Elena said.

Marcus made sandwiches while she changed the smoke-detector batteries. By one o’clock, the errands were finished, the kitchen was dry, and they sat together at the table, eating lunch with the grocery receipt between them.


By nine on Saturday morning, Elena had started a load of towels, and her husband, Marcus, was standing under the kitchen sink with a flashlight between his teeth. A slow drip had dampened the cabinet floor overnight.

“Hand me the adjustable wrench,” he said.

Elena passed it to him, then checked the shopping list on her phone. “We need detergent, coffee, onions, and something for dinner.”

“Add plumber’s tape.”

Twenty minutes later, the leak had slowed but not stopped. Marcus placed a mixing bowl beneath the pipe and took a photo so he could show someone at the hardware store. Elena moved the towels to the dryer, wiped crumbs from the counter, and gathered the reusable grocery bags from the coat closet.

They drove first to the hardware store, where an employee helped Marcus find the correct washer for the pipe. Elena picked up two furnace filters after checking the size in a photo she had taken months earlier. Back in the parking lot, they debated whether to go home first, then decided the bowl could handle the drip.

At the supermarket, Marcus pushed the cart while Elena compared prices. He chose chicken thighs for dinner; she added rice, broccoli, yogurt, and a bag of oranges. They split up briefly—Marcus went for coffee and detergent while Elena found canned tomatoes and onions. At the checkout, they realized they had forgotten eggs, so Marcus jogged back while Elena unloaded the cart.

At home, they carried the bags in together. Elena put away the refrigerated food while Marcus returned to the sink. The new washer fixed the leak, and he dried the cabinet with an old towel.

By early afternoon, the groceries were stored, the furnace filter was replaced, and the laundry was folded on the couch. Elena started chopping onions for dinner while Marcus made sandwiches for lunch. They ate at the kitchen table, tired but satisfied, discussing whether they had enough energy to vacuum—or whether it could wait until Sunday.


On Saturday morning, Elena and Marcus stood in their kitchen, looking at a nearly empty refrigerator. A carton of eggs, half a jar of salsa, and two soft apples occupied most of the shelves.

“We should make a list before we go,” Elena said, opening a drawer for a notepad.

Marcus checked the pantry while she wrote. He called out what they needed—rice, coffee, pasta, cereal—and she added vegetables and ingredients for tacos. They compared the list with the grocery store’s weekly ad, then decided which coupons were worth using.

Before leaving, they carried a basket of laundry downstairs to the shared laundry room in their apartment building. Marcus started the washing machine while Elena sorted a stack of mail on the lobby table. She found an electricity bill, a credit card offer, and a notice about next month’s fire alarm inspection. Upstairs, they took out the recycling and replaced a burned-out bulb in the hallway fixture.

At the grocery store, Elena pushed the cart while Marcus gathered produce. He inspected the avocados, rejecting two before finding three that were firm but not hard. Elena compared prices on chicken and chose the family-size package, planning to freeze half. They split up briefly: Marcus went for milk and yogurt while Elena found tortillas and canned beans.

At checkout, one coupon failed to scan. Marcus politely pointed out that the cereal matched the offer, and the cashier entered the discount manually. Elena packed the groceries into reusable bags, keeping the eggs and tomatoes on top.

Back home, they moved the laundry to a dryer and put away the groceries together. Marcus divided the chicken into freezer bags while Elena washed the lettuce and chopped onions for dinner. By midafternoon, the laundry was folded, the refrigerator was full, and the recycling bin was empty.

They sat at the kitchen table with coffee, reviewing what remained on their weekend list. The bathroom still needed cleaning, but neither of them moved to start it. They agreed it could wait until Sunday.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping in the hallway closet. Her husband, Marcus, stood beside it holding a damp towel.

“I think the sheets are all on one side,” he said.

Together they stopped the machine, redistributed the load, and started it again. While Marcus made coffee, Elena opened the refrigerator and checked what they needed for the week. There were two eggs, half a carton of milk, and a jar of mustard. She wrote a list while he added coffee filters, rice, and dish soap.

After breakfast, they carried recycling to the bins behind their apartment building. Marcus broke down a shipping box while Elena sorted glass bottles from cans. Then they drove to a nearby supermarket, passing a youth soccer game and a long line at the car wash.

Inside the store, they divided the list. Elena picked out vegetables and compared prices on chicken thighs. Marcus found cereal, coffee, and canned tomatoes. They met near the dairy case, where he held up two brands of yogurt.

“The cheaper one?” he asked.

Elena checked the expiration dates. “The cheaper one.”

At the checkout, they realized they had forgotten onions. Marcus hurried back while Elena unloaded the cart. The cashier had scanned nearly everything by the time he returned with a yellow mesh bag.

Back home, Marcus carried the heavier bags upstairs, and Elena made two trips for the rest. They put the groceries away together, moving an old container of leftovers to the front so they would remember to eat it.

The washing machine had finished, so Elena transferred the sheets to the dryer while Marcus wiped the kitchen counters and replaced the empty paper towel roll. Before lunch, they drove to the hardware store for a furnace filter, then stopped at the gas station.

By early afternoon, the errands were done. They heated the leftovers, sat at the small kitchen table, and compared plans for Sunday while the clean sheets turned slowly in the dryer.


On Saturday morning, Elena found Marcus at the kitchen table comparing the grocery list with the supermarket app. He had circled a coupon for coffee and crossed out milk after checking the refrigerator.

“We have enough for breakfast,” he said, lifting the carton.

“Not enough for the week,” Elena replied, adding milk back to the list.

After oatmeal and toast, they divided the chores. Marcus carried two baskets of laundry to the basement of their townhouse while Elena changed the sheets upstairs. The washing machine made a knocking sound during the spin cycle, so Marcus adjusted its feet with a wrench from the utility drawer. Elena vacuumed the bedroom, then came down to help fold the first load.

By eleven, they drove to the grocery store. Elena pushed the cart while Marcus read from the list. They compared prices on pasta, chose chicken thighs instead of breasts because they were on sale, and bought apples, spinach, yogurt, rice, and a box of cereal. Marcus went back for dish soap after remembering the bottle at home was nearly empty. At the checkout, Elena noticed they had been charged twice for the yogurt, and the cashier corrected the receipt.

On the way home, they stopped at the hardware store for furnace filters and a pack of lightbulbs. Marcus picked the wrong filter size at first, but Elena found the measurements in a photo she had taken of the old one.

Back home, they put away the groceries together. Elena washed and dried the spinach while Marcus divided the chicken into freezer bags. Then they changed the furnace filter and replaced the burned-out bulb over the front steps.

By midafternoon, the laundry was folded, the refrigerator was full, and the errands were finished. Marcus made coffee with the discounted bag they had bought, and Elena sliced an apple for them to share. They sat on the couch with their mugs, tired but satisfied, and discussed what movie to watch that evening.


On Saturday morning, Lena found Marcus in the laundry room, staring at the washing machine.

“It’s making that noise again,” he said as the drum knocked against the side.

Lena shifted the basket on her hip. “Did you check the feet?”

Marcus crouched and pressed on one corner. The machine rocked slightly. He fetched a wrench from the hall closet while Lena sorted their clothes into two piles. Together, they pulled the washer away from the wall, adjusted one of the leveling feet, and pushed it back.

The next load spun quietly.

“Fixed for free,” Marcus said.

“For now,” Lena replied, smiling.

After lunch, they made a grocery list at the kitchen counter. Marcus checked the pantry while Lena looked through the refrigerator. They needed rice, coffee, onions, yogurt, chicken, and something green for dinner. Lena added dish soap; Marcus added ice cream.

At the supermarket, the parking lot was crowded. Marcus steered the cart while Lena compared prices. They debated whether the larger bag of rice was actually cheaper per pound, then used a calculator on Marcus’s phone to confirm it was. In the produce section, Lena chose broccoli and apples while Marcus found a bunch of cilantro that wasn’t wilted.

At checkout, they realized they had forgotten coffee. Lena stayed with the cart while Marcus hurried back to the aisle. He returned just as the cashier finished scanning the chicken.

On the way home, they stopped at the hardware store for furnace filters and a new lightbulb for the porch. Back at the house, Lena put away the groceries while Marcus changed the filter. Then he carried the laundry upstairs, and she replaced the porch bulb.

By five, the errands were done. They cooked chicken and broccoli together, moving around each other in their narrow kitchen. After dinner, Marcus opened the ice cream.

“That wasn’t on the list,” Lena said.

“It was on my list.”

She handed him two bowls.


On Saturday morning, Elena stood at the kitchen counter comparing the grocery list with the nearly empty refrigerator. Her husband, Marcus, carried a basket of laundry down the hall, pausing to add detergent to the list.

“And coffee,” he said. “We’re almost out.”

Elena shook the can. “We have enough for tomorrow.”

“That counts as almost out.”

By ten, the washing machine was running, and they had divided the chores. Marcus took the recycling to the bins behind their apartment building while Elena changed the sheets and gathered the library books that were due Monday. When he returned, they loaded everything into their car and drove across town.

Their first stop was the library. Elena returned two novels, and Marcus picked up a book he had reserved about home repairs. Next, they went to the hardware store for lightbulbs and a replacement filter for the air conditioner. Marcus checked the size on his phone while Elena compared prices.

At the supermarket, they each pushed one end of the cart when the aisles grew crowded. Elena chose vegetables and fruit while Marcus found rice, canned tomatoes, and the coffee he had insisted they needed. They debated whether to buy salmon or chicken for dinner, finally choosing chicken because it was on sale.

“Do we need ice cream?” Marcus asked near the frozen section.

“No,” Elena said, then put a carton of vanilla in the cart.

Back home, Marcus carried the heavier bags upstairs. Elena put away the cold food while he moved the laundry into the dryer. They ate sandwiches at the kitchen table and reviewed what remained on their list.

Only vacuuming and cleaning the bathroom were left. Marcus offered to take the bathroom if Elena vacuumed. She agreed, but only after making another pot of coffee.

By midafternoon, the apartment smelled faintly of cleaner and fresh laundry. The groceries were put away, the errands were done, and the rest of Saturday was still theirs.


On Saturday morning, Elena opened the refrigerator and found half a carton of eggs, a soft tomato, and three different jars of mustard. She called to her husband, Marcus, who was sorting laundry in the bedroom.

“We need groceries,” she said.

Marcus appeared in the doorway holding two unmatched socks. “And detergent.”

They made a list at the kitchen table. Elena checked the pantry while Marcus looked under the bathroom sink. They added rice, coffee, toothpaste, trash bags, and cat litter. Before leaving, Marcus started a load of towels, and Elena broke down the cardboard boxes that had accumulated near the back door.

Their first stop was the post office, where Elena mailed a birthday package to her sister in Arizona. Marcus waited by the counter, comparing prices for padded envelopes. Afterward, they drove to a hardware store for a replacement air filter. Marcus found the correct size while Elena picked up a packet of picture hooks they had been meaning to buy.

The supermarket parking lot was crowded. Inside, Elena steered the cart and Marcus read from the list. They discussed whether they would actually cook spinach before it went bad and agreed to buy frozen broccoli instead. Marcus chose apples, rejecting two with bruises, while Elena compared the price per ounce on coffee. At the checkout, they realized they had forgotten cat litter. Marcus jogged back to the pet aisle while Elena unloaded the cart.

At home, they carried the bags up the front steps in two trips. Elena put away the cold items, and Marcus transferred the towels to the dryer. They ate turkey sandwiches at the counter, then changed the air filter together, with Elena holding the flashlight while Marcus worked the stubborn latch.

By midafternoon, the errands were done. The laundry hummed, the refrigerator looked full, and the cat inspected his newly stocked supplies. Marcus made coffee, and Elena opened the mail. They sat at the table for a few quiet minutes, pleased by the ordinary satisfaction of having taken care of things.


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping in the basement. She found her husband, Marcus, kneeling beside it with a basket of towels.

“I think the blue bath mat is throwing it off balance,” he said.

Elena lifted the lid, rearranged the load, and started the cycle again. The machine settled into a steady hum. While Marcus carried clean clothes upstairs, she made coffee and wrote a grocery list on the back of an envelope.

They spent the next hour dividing chores. Marcus vacuumed the living room and changed the air filter in the hallway vent. Elena cleaned the bathroom and sorted a pile of mail on the kitchen counter. When she found the electric bill, she handed it to Marcus, who paid it through the utility company’s website.

Around noon, they drove to a supermarket near their home in Columbus, Ohio. Elena pushed the cart while Marcus checked items off the list on his phone. They bought chicken, rice, spinach, yogurt, coffee, and a bag of apples. In the cereal aisle, Marcus reached for a large box of granola, but Elena pointed to the price.

“The smaller one is on sale,” she said.

“Per ounce, the big one is still cheaper,” he replied, studying the shelf label.

They took the larger box.

At checkout, Elena unloaded the cart while Marcus packed the reusable bags, keeping the eggs and bread on top. On the way home, they stopped at a hardware store for lightbulbs and a replacement washer for the dripping kitchen faucet.

Back at the house, Elena put away the groceries as Marcus repaired the faucet. It took him two attempts, and Elena held a flashlight under the sink while he tightened the fitting.

When the dripping finally stopped, they stood quietly for a moment, listening.

“Good enough,” Elena said.

Marcus smiled. They reheated leftover soup for lunch, folded the towels together, and discussed what movie they might watch that evening.


By nine on Saturday morning, Elena had stripped the sheets from the bed while her husband, Marcus, stood in the hallway sorting laundry into two baskets.

“Your red sweatshirt does not belong with the whites,” he called.

“It’s been washed a hundred times.”

Marcus held it up. “And today could be the day it betrays us.”

Elena laughed and carried the sheets to the basement laundry room. They lived in a duplex outside Columbus, Ohio, and shared the machines with the downstairs tenant. One washer was free, so she started a load while Marcus gathered the recycling and took it to the bins behind the building.

Over coffee, they made a grocery list. Elena checked the refrigerator and added eggs, spinach, and yogurt. Marcus looked through the pantry and wrote down rice, canned tomatoes, and coffee filters. They agreed to plan three dinners before shopping, hoping to avoid another week of expensive takeout.

At the supermarket, Marcus pushed the cart while Elena compared prices on chicken thighs. He went to find onions and returned with onions, apples, and a bag of tortilla chips.

“The chips weren’t on the list,” she said.

“They’re for morale.”

Elena put them in the cart and added salsa.

They split up near the end. Marcus waited at the deli counter while Elena picked up toothpaste and dish soap. At checkout, they used a store coupon and packed their groceries into reusable bags, arranging the eggs and bread on top.

Back home, Marcus carried everything upstairs in two trips. Elena wiped out a sticky refrigerator drawer before putting away the produce. Then they switched the laundry, folded the dry towels, and changed the sheets together, each taking one side of the fitted sheet.

By early afternoon, the errands were done. Marcus made grilled cheese sandwiches while Elena heated tomato soup. They ate at the kitchen table with the unopened mail between them, discussing whether to clean the bathroom next.

They decided it could wait until Sunday.


On Saturday morning, Elena found Marcus in the kitchen, staring into the refrigerator with the seriousness of a mechanic inspecting an engine.

“We have mustard, half a lemon, and something that used to be cilantro,” he said.

Elena set two laundry baskets by the basement door. “Then I guess we’re going shopping.”

They lived in a small house outside Columbus, Ohio, where Saturday errands had become a kind of shared ritual. Marcus started a load of towels while Elena stripped the bed. She carried the sheets downstairs, and he went upstairs with a screwdriver to tighten the loose handle on the bathroom cabinet.

By ten, they had made a list on the back of an envelope. Elena checked the pantry for rice and canned tomatoes. Marcus looked under the sink and added dish soap and trash bags. Before leaving, they loaded flattened cardboard boxes into the trunk to drop at the recycling center.

The grocery store was crowded. Marcus pushed the cart while Elena compared prices on chicken thighs. He chose apples, rejecting two with bruises, and went back for coffee after they had already reached the dairy aisle.

“You walked right past it,” Elena said.

“I was distracted by the cereal display.”

They bought vegetables, eggs, bread, yogurt, and a frozen pizza for a night when neither of them wanted to cook. At the checkout, Elena remembered they needed stamps, so Marcus waited with the groceries while she used the customer-service counter.

On the way home, they stopped for gas. Elena cleaned old receipts from the center console while Marcus filled the tank. Back at the house, they carried the bags in together, making three trips because Marcus refused to admit that two would have been unreasonable.

Elena put away the cold food while Marcus divided the chicken into freezer bags. Then they moved the laundry to the dryer and made sandwiches.

They ate at the kitchen table with the window open. Outside, a neighbor’s lawn mower started up. Marcus glanced at the grass.

“Tomorrow,” Elena said.

Marcus nodded. “Definitely tomorrow.”


By nine on Saturday morning, Elena had started a load of towels while her husband, Marcus, stood at the kitchen counter sorting the mail. They lived in a small townhouse outside Columbus, Ohio, where Saturday chores had become a routine they both complained about and secretly appreciated.

“The electric bill’s higher,” Marcus said.

Elena glanced at the thermostat. “Then stop turning the heat up to seventy-four.”

“That was one time.”

They made a list together: groceries, laundry detergent, lightbulbs, and a return at the hardware store. Marcus added coffee; Elena added cilantro after he had already folded the paper.

At the hardware store, Elena handled the return while Marcus compared LED bulbs, reading the labels as if choosing medical equipment. She found him ten minutes later holding two boxes.

“These last longer,” he said.

“They’re also twice the price.”

They settled on the cheaper ones.

Next they drove to the supermarket. Elena pushed the cart while Marcus checked items off the list. In produce, he chose avocados, squeezing each one carefully. She replaced two that were already too soft. They debated whether they needed cereal, bought it anyway, and passed the bakery without stopping until Marcus doubled back for a loaf of sourdough.

At checkout, Elena noticed they had forgotten detergent. Marcus jogged to the cleaning aisle while she unloaded the cart. He returned slightly out of breath just as the cashier reached the last item.

Back home, they carried the bags in together. Marcus put away the pantry items while Elena divided chicken breasts into freezer bags. Then they switched the laundry and replaced the burned-out bulb over the stairs.

By early afternoon, the errands were done. Elena made grilled cheese with the sourdough, and Marcus heated tomato soup. They ate at the kitchen table, tired but satisfied, while the dryer thumped steadily in the next room.

“Next Saturday,” Marcus said, “we do nothing.”

Elena smiled. “Sure.”


On Saturday morning, Elena woke to the sound of the washing machine thumping unevenly in the laundry closet. She found her husband, Marcus, crouched in front of it, watching the machine wobble.

“I think the towels are all on one side,” he said.

Elena opened the lid, rearranged the damp bundle, and started the cycle again. The machine settled into a steady hum. While Marcus stripped the sheets from their bed, Elena made coffee and wrote a list for the day: groceries, pharmacy, dry cleaning, and a replacement bulb for the porch light.

They left their townhouse just before ten. Marcus drove, and Elena checked the grocery store’s app for coupons. At the pharmacy, he picked up a prescription while she compared prices on allergy medicine. Next, they stopped at the hardware store, where Marcus found the correct bulb and Elena bought felt pads for the dining chairs.

The supermarket was crowded with families and employees restocking shelves. Marcus pushed the cart while Elena read from the list. They chose chicken thighs, rice, spinach, yogurt, and bread. In the produce section, Marcus inspected avocados and handed her two that were nearly ripe.

“These should be ready by Monday,” he said.

Elena added a bag of oranges and reminded him they needed dish soap. At checkout, they divided the bags by weight so neither would have to carry too much.

Back home, Marcus put away the frozen food and pantry items while Elena washed the produce. They ate sandwiches at the kitchen counter, then worked through the remaining chores. Elena remade the bed with clean sheets. Marcus replaced the porch bulb and tightened a loose screw in the railing. Together, they folded the towels that had caused the morning’s trouble.

By midafternoon, the errands were finished. Marcus turned on a basketball game, and Elena sat beside him with her feet tucked under a blanket. The house looked much the same as before, but the refrigerator was full, the laundry was done, and the porch light worked again.