Bill bounced into the room, humming a little tune, and poured himself a cup of coffee. He sat down at the table and took a spoonful of sugar, spilling some on the table.

“Do you know you always do that? Whenever you fix your coffee, you spill a little sugar. I’m always wiping up after you,” Lucy said meanly.

“Gee, I didn’t realize. I’m sorry,” said Bill, raising an eyebrow and reaching for a corn muffin. He broke the muffin open with a knife, scattering crumbs on the table as he buttered it liberally. Then he compounded the mess by dropping a large blob of marmalade on the table.

“Look what you’re doing!” said Lucy. “Haven’t you ever heard of plates!” She picked up the muffin and plopped it on a plate, then carefully wiped off Bill’s patch of table. “I have to do everything,” she complained. “I work until one in the morning and then nobody helps. You just make messes and leave them for me to clean up.”

“You’re right,” placated Bill. “I just wasn’t thinking. We’ll all try harder to be nice to Mommy, won’t we, guys?”

The children nodded solemnly. They were wisely keeping silent this morning.

“Tell you what, Lucy. I’ll leave a little late and drop Sara off at preschool for you. How’s that?”

“It’s no good,” Lucy grumbled. “I have to go out anyway.”

“Oh? I was thinking you might like to have a second cup of coffee and some time to yourself. Maybe read the paper? Have a relaxing bath? Take some Midol?”

“I have to take Marge to the hospital.”

“Oh,” said Bill in the tone of one who sees light dawning.

“Don’t say it,” Lucy warned. “You think I’m just irritable because I hate going to the hospital. That might be true, but you have to admit you’re awfully messy.”

“I know,” admitted Bill. “But you usually don’t mind.”

“I do mind. You’re going to have to try harder. I can’t work and do all the housework, too.”

“Of course not,” Bill agreed. “I solemnly swear I will change my ways from now on. I will faithfully strive henceforward to be neat and clean, especially at certain times of the month.” Then he added, “You don’t have to see him, you know.”

“I can’t just drop Marge off and go shopping or something.” Lucy was horrified.

“You could. You hate tubes and things, you know you do.”

“Well, I’ll just have to be brave. He’s a friend.”

“Marge would understand.”

“I’d hate myself.”

Bill nodded and picked up his plate and mug. He carried them over to the sink and rinsed them. Then he placed them carefully in the dishwasher.

“Do I pass inspection, Sergeant?”

Lucy laughed. “Get out of here.”