Dad grabbed the grocery list that Mom kept on the fridge door and wrote raisins on it.

“Okay, I’m still finishing up this summer job and I have to install the cabinets I built,” he said. “So I’m going to head out until dinnertime.”

This year Mom and Dad have been letting us stay in the house without them home, but only during the day. Dad is always here after school, though, which is nice, even if he’s sometimes really annoying and asks a ton of questions about our day.

Today, though, Dad was in a hurry.

“Okay, dinner is in the slow cooker,” he said, “so whatever you do, do not turn that thing off, or we’ll all starve. Mom will be home by five thirty. We both have our phones at the ready, so just text or call if you need anything.”

“Where’s Jenna?” I asked.

“At work,” said Dad. “Wait, is she at work? This new schedule…,” he muttered.

He scurried over to the bulletin board in the kitchen, where Mom keeps a monthly calendar and writes down who goes where on each day. Dad calls it the Command Center.

“Yep, yep, she went to work after she had a student council meeting, and Mom will bring her home when her shift ends,” said Dad.

“Dad, did you just lose track of a daughter?” teased Molly.

“No!” said Dad, but we all laughed.

Mom is crazy detail-oriented. Everything at home is organized beyond belief. Like the cans in our kitchen cabinets are basically alphabetized. Her socks are folded a certain way and arranged by color.

Maybe it’s because she’s an accountant, and, as she says, accountants have to be precise about things because they work with numbers. As the accountant for the restaurant, she makes sure that all the finances are up to date, like the staff gets paid, the bills are paid on time, and at the end of the month the restaurant isn’t spending more money than it’s making.

Uncle Charlie does all the ordering, everything from napkins to food to supplies like extra water glasses, because in a restaurant you are always breaking glasses. Uncle Mike runs Donut Dreams, where I work. Nans plans out the menus and figures out the daily specials, and makes her special donuts, and Grandpa… well, as Grandpa proudly tells everyone, he steers the ship and keeps it on course.

Everyone has their “own lane” as they all like to say, and they say that a lot to each other, as in “Hey, get out of my lane!” when they step on each other’s toes. Everyone has a different role, but we all work together.