We have read everything and understood almost none of it in practice

We have read everything. Between us we own a shelf of books about this and we have understood almost none of it in practice, because every one of them describes a household with more space, more time and fewer arguments about the dishwasher than ours has. What we are short of is not theory. It is one couple a decade ahead of us who will let us ask the obvious questions.

Thirty four and thirty six, Manhattan, together five years, married last autumn, both working the sort of hours that turn a Tuesday evening into a negotiation.

She has led for about a year. It works when the week is calm and falls apart entirely when either of us is under pressure, which is most weeks, and we genuinely cannot tell whether that means we are doing it badly or whether that is what it is like for everybody and nobody writes it down.

So: dinner, a long one, with a couple who have been at this long enough to be slightly bored of it. We are good company, we listen, and we would far rather hear what went wrong for you than what went right.

Not looking for a third, ever, and not looking to play with anybody. Not looking for a couple who want to formalise anything or take us on. Not looking to be somebody's example of how sweet it all is at the beginning, which we have had twice and which is a kind way of not answering the question.