I found the homework sheet in the fridge

Dear Delyara, I was reaching for yoghurt and there it was, folded under the butter like it had every right to be there. For a second I just stared at it and felt that weird mix of laughter and defeat that has become very familiar to me. Nothing dramatic had happened. No one was hurt. It was just one more sign that life in this house moves so fast that objects and thoughts end up in the wrong places while I’m trying to keep everyone fed, on time, and emotionally mostly intact. I took it out, dried the corner where the condensation had reached it, and leaned against the counter longer than I needed to. I think what upset me wasn’t the paper. It was how normal this has become. The constant low-level disorder. The way I keep discovering the shape of everyone else’s day after they have already moved on from it.