I tried to tell myself it was exhaustion.

We were both tired.

The baby cried at unpredictable hours.

Laundry accumulated faster than I could fold it.

The kitchen was rarely clean for more than a few minutes.

But the arguments didn’t seem to depend on whether the house was actually untidy.

They depended on whether Daniel wanted to find something wrong.

The following day, I bought a box of diapers.