Family Chores

for one family, and nobody else

Nobody is taking the trash out. And spring break starts Monday.

One is a rotation nobody remembers agreeing to. Another is a dentist appointment somebody wrote on the back of an envelope. The third is the milk, which ran out on Tuesday. This app keeps all three, in one place, for one family.

Create your family I already have one

Free. No ads. No card. No “per seat” pricing for your own children.

Chores repeat. Events happen once. Things run out.

Almost everything a household has to remember is one of the three, and each wants something different from an app. Keeping them apart is why none of them has to pretend to be another.

Repeats. Every Monday and Thursday, forever A rule, a rotation, and a checkbox. Set it up once in October and it is still asking the right child in June. The chores half ↓ Once. Tuesday the 14th, half past nine A date, a time, a place. The dentist, spring break, a parent-teacher night, the friend staying the weekend. The schedule half ↓ Runs out. Four rolls, then one, then none A count, and the number at which it wants buying. Everything that gets there is on the shopping list before anybody has to notice. The inventory ↓

Chores · the half that repeats

Say it once. The app works out the rest of the year.

Weekly, every two weeks, monthly on the 17th, the first Monday of the month, every third day, or two children trading off week by week — the recurrence engine has more cases than most households will ever need, which is the correct number to have.

  1. Rotations that actually rotate

    Two children on one chore either each get their own checkbox or take turns week by week. Whichever you pick, nobody has to remember whose turn it was, which is the entire argument.

  2. A day that has finished, stays finished

    Children check off today. Yesterday is closed. A parent can still fix an honest mistake, because we are not monsters — and can carry a missed one onto today, which moves it rather than copying it.

  3. Notes, from anyone

    “Could not do it, soccer ran late.” “Get more of the good trash bags.” Attached to the day, not to the chore, so last week's excuse does not follow you around.

Schedule · the half that happens once

Put it on the day it happens. From the day it happens.

Everything that is not a chore. There is no separate page listing every event the family has ever had, because that is a page nobody opens. A day, a week and a month, the same three views the chores use, so there is nothing new to learn.

Things that last more than a day

Spring break, a trip, a visitor staying the weekend. It shows on every day it covers and says which day of it you are looking at, instead of appearing once on the Monday and vanishing.

Repeats that are still separate events

Swimming every Tuesday until December writes twenty events, not one rule. Move one of them and the rest stay put; change one and you are asked whether you meant just that one, the ones after it, or all of them.

Everyone can see it. Mostly.

Naming somebody on an event says who it is about, not who is allowed to look — a calendar that hides a parent's appointment from the family is a worse answer than no calendar. There is one switch for the ones the children should not see.

Inventory · the third that runs out

The shopping list writes itself.

Count the things the house buys again and again, in the places they are kept — food storage, the bathroom, the garage. When one runs down, it is on the list. Nobody has to write it on the back of anything.

Down to its line, it’s on the list

Every thing has a number at which it wants buying: zero for “tell me when it runs out”, two for toilet paper, because running out is already too late. To buy is everything at or below its line, so it can never disagree with the cupboard.

Scan it once

Point a phone at the barcode — any phone, iPhones included — and the name fills itself in, with the nutrition. The lookup happens on our server, so your phone never tells anybody else what your house buys.

A child asks, and it’s on the list

Children see every count but, unless you say otherwise, cannot change it. They press Need more instead, and it lands on the list with their name beside it. Buying it answers them.

It knows when anybody last looked

Checked today, eleven days ago, or never. And a History page shows what the house actually gets through, which is the number worth knowing before a shop.

Suspiciously well engineered for a list of chores

(we checked)

  • Describe it and it fills in the form

    Press “Create with AI” on the Chores page and write it the way you would say it — “take the trash out on Tuesday nights”. The form comes back filled in, and nothing is saved until you press Save.

  • Ask your AI assistant

    Connect your favorite AI assistant over MCP, and ask it what the kids still have to do today or what is on the shopping list. A parent’s can add things for you. None of them can delete anything. How it connects →

  • A reminder in the evening

    One notification, at an hour you pick, only if something is still unticked. A day you have finished says nothing at all, which is the only way a reminder stays worth reading.

  • Everybody's own time zone

    A family split across two places gets two versions of “today”, and both of them are right. The reminder follows the person, not the server.

  • Print the week for the fridge

    A plain chart with a box to tick beside every chore, for whoever is not carrying a phone. The oldest interface in the house, and still undefeated.

  • It asks before it deletes

    Every time. Somebody once removed a person instead of a category and we have been thinking about it ever since.

  • Nobody sells anything to your children

    No ads, no tracking, no third party watching a fourteen-year-old tick off the recycling. The whole business model is that there isn't one.

On phones

Lives on the Home Screen

Add it to your phone and it opens like an app — no browser furniture, its own icon, and it keeps clear of the notch. Which matters, because the only device a fourteen-year-old will accept a chore list on is the one already in their hand.

What it costs

Free, and it stays free.

Chores, the schedule, the inventory, the shopping list, rewards, every child and every device: none of it costs anything, and there are no ads. The one part that costs us money to run is Create with AI, so every family gets 25 asks, and a parent can buy more if they want them — once, never a subscription. The fine print →

FAMILY CHORES

The app, all of it$0.00

25 Create with AI asksincluded

MORE ASKS, IF YOU WANT THEM

50 asks$3.00

150 asks$5.00

300 asks$10.00

Paid once. Never expire. For the whole family.

THANK YOU

note to self

Your children are, right now, not doing the dishes.

This will not fix that. It will, however, make it extremely clear whose turn it was — and remind you that the dentist is at nine, and that you are out of milk.

Create your family

Takes a minute. The dishes will still be there.