Letting the wheel decide for us

We were all just standing there, looking at the dishes. Or the trash. Or the laundry basket. The silence was louder than any argument. Nobody wanted to be the one to pick, because picking felt like losing.

The weight of a simple choice

It’s funny how the smallest things can become these huge, looming decisions at home. You’d think we were dividing up treasure, not chores. The tension wasn’t about the work itself, really. It was about the feeling of being voluntold, of that subtle unfairness that lingers after someone just points a finger.I remember one evening, the dog needed walking, the recycling was overflowing, and someone had to run to the store. We all had reasons we couldn’t, or shouldn’t, be the one. It was a deadlock. That’s when I had the idea, not as a solution, but as a way out.

Spinning away the responsibility

I found a wheel spinner online. We typed in all the tasks, our names included. The click to spin felt like a collective exhale. The responsibility wasn’t ours anymore; it belonged to the little digital arrow.When it landed, there was a beat of silence. Then I just started laughing. It wasn’t a laugh of joy because I got off easy—I didn’t. It was a laugh of pure relief. The decision was made, and it was made by something utterly impartial. No hidden agendas, no guilt, no history.

The quiet after the spin

The person it picked just nodded, got up, and did the thing. There was no grumbling, no side-eye. It was done. The air in the room cleared instantly.

What we were really dividing

We weren’t just splitting chores. We were handing off the mental load of deciding, which is often the heavier burden. The wheel took that weight for us.Now, when that familiar standoff starts to build, someone will just say “wheel?”. And we all know what that means. It means we’re accepting the outcome before we even see it, because the process itself feels fair. That’s what matters more than who takes out the trash tonight.