For two people, one home
The tiring part isn't the washing up. It's remembering the washing up.
Even is a chore list for couples that counts both halves of the work — the doing, and the carrying it around in your head all week. Put it on the same page, and it stops being an argument.
Free on iPhone. No ads, no points, no streaks.
Every chore has two people attached to it
One does it. One remembers it needs doing. In most homes those are not the same person, and only one of the two jobs is visible. Even names both.
The doer
Who does it
The half everyone already counts. Even measures it in minutes, because that is the honest unit for work you can watch happening.
The tracker
Who remembers it
The half nobody counts. Knowing the bins go out tonight, that the prescription runs out Thursday, that somebody has to book the thing. Even measures it in share of the list, because it is not a job with a stopwatch on it.
Nobody gets assigned anything
You cannot hand your partner a chore in Even. Work you want them to pick up becomes a proposal — something they see, and answer. A list one person can fill on another person's behalf is just a way of nagging with extra steps.
The one exception is the weekend check-in, where the two of you are reading the same screen and agreeing out loud. Then it moves at once, because you both just said so.
What it actually does
Small, and finished. Even does a short list of things properly rather than a long list nearly.
One list, two phones
Add a chore on yours, it is on theirs. Works offline and catches up when there is signal.
A week that resets
Balance covers one week and then starts again. Even never renders a running total, because a debt between two people living together is the thing this app exists to avoid.
The weekend check-in
On Saturday and Sunday, Even reports how the week actually split — doing and tracking, read separately — and offers to move something. You choose, together, in about two minutes.
Ask, and promise
Ask your partner to pick something up. They can answer with a promise and a time. Even holds it, so neither of you has to.
Say thank you
Mark something they did, and write a line about it if you want to. It is the only place in the app one person writes to the other in their own words, and it is the best thing in it.
Fair for now
Somebody is ill, or travelling, or in the middle of something. Say so, and Even stops reading the week as unfair. It is an annotation in the margin, not a suspension of the app.
No points. No streaks. No badges.
Not because we ran out of time. A score turns housework into a game one of you is losing, and that is a worse problem than an uneven week.
A level week gets a quiet acknowledgement and nothing else. Even has one thing to say when it goes well, and it says it once.
Questions
Is it really only for two people?
Yes, by design, and the app says so on its first screen. The tracker-and-doer idea only holds when there are two of you; with three it becomes a rota, which is a different product.
Does my partner see everything I write?
Everything in your household, yes — chores, photos, notes, the lot. That is what a shared list is. They cannot see your email address or your password, and nobody outside your household sees anything at all.
What does it cost?
Even is free to download. There is no advertising in it and there never will be.
What happens if we stop using it for a week?
Nothing. Even does not punish a gap, does not reset a streak — there is no streak — and does not carry the missed week forward. You pick it up where you left off.
Do you sell my data?
No, and there is no arrangement under which we would. Setup asks whether Even may send analytics and crash reports, and either can be switched off at any time; even on, they carry counts and categories, never a chore name, a note, a photo or an email. The Privacy Policy sets out exactly what is sent.
Can I delete everything?
Yes, from inside the app, in two taps, permanently. See Delete Account.
Start with the chores you already do
Setup is naming the work and saying who remembers it. Ten minutes on a Sunday, and the argument has somewhere to go other than at each other.