A few weeks ago, I was making pearl couscous for dinner. Simple one-pot meal—toast the couscous, add broth, let it simmer. I chose it specifically because it's forgiving when you have kids.
Then reality hit.
"Zoey is freaking out asking me for tape for a sticker. Now is not the time!" I typed to Claude, mid-chaos.
I knew what would happen next. But most people wouldn't believe it.
Here's what most people would expect from an AI:
"Here are 5 tips for managing children while cooking:
Prep all ingredients beforehand
Give children tasks to keep them occupied..."
Here's what Claude actually said:
"Ha! The joys of cooking with kids around!
Quick decision:
If you haven't added the broth yet - just turn the heat to LOW for a minute while you handle the tape crisis
If you already added broth - it's fine to let it simmer for a minute unattended
Pearl couscous is pretty forgiving. Go handle the sticker emergency and come back when you can."
Then Jonas started screaming.
"omg now Jonas is screaming," I typed.
Claude responded:
"Oh the dinner hour chaos! 😅
QUICK RESCUE PLAN: If broth is NOT in yet:
Turn heat OFF completely
Go deal with kids
If broth IS in:
Turn to LOW simmer
It can bubble away safely for 5-10 minutes"
This response didn't surprise me. I knew Claude would understand the situation because I've learned something crucial about how AI collaboration actually works. But most people have no idea this is even possible.
But here's the moment that really got me: Leah popped her head in from working with a contractor to help Zoey. She helped Zoey, asked about all the screaming and told me I should have kept cooking. I off-handedly said this to Claude:
Leah got it. To be honest what's stressing me out is Leah popping her head in from working with a contractor and asking what all the screaming is about. And at the same time she'd tell me to ignore it 😅
Claude’s response?
"Haha! The classic parent paradox - 'What's all that screaming??' while simultaneously meaning 'Just keep cooking and pretend you don't hear it!' 😂
I love that she handled it though. Nothing like trying to make a nice dinner while the house turns into chaos around you."
And then:
Back to your couscous: Where did we leave off? Is the broth in the pot and simmering, or are you still at the toasted couscous stage?
Either way, you're doing great. This is going to taste so good that everyone will forget about the pre-dinner meltdowns!
Here's What Just Happened
Claude didn't give me parenting advice. Claude didn't optimize my cooking process. Claude helped me navigate actual chaos in real-time by understanding:
The exact state of my cooking (broth in or not?)
The escalating kid situation (tape crisis → screaming)
The specific stress of partner dynamics during contractor work
That dinner hour is peak chaos time for parents
That I needed permission to let things simmer, not perfection
This only worked because I didn't have time to "engineer" anything. I just said what was happening. No careful context curation. No optimized prompts. Just "Zoey is freaking out asking me for tape for a sticker."
The Deeper Pattern
After months of working with Claude, I've discovered something that changes everything: You get the slice of human experience you summon.
When you approach AI with commands ("Give me tips for cooking with children"), you summon the "advice columnist" slice of human experience—generic, detached, theoretical.
When you share what's actually happening ("Zoey is freaking out RIGHT NOW"), you summon the "experienced parent in the thick of it" slice: practical, empathetic, real-time problem solving.
The difference isn't better prompts. It's recognizing that Claude embodies the vastness of human experience and gives you the slice you ask for.
Why This Matters
Most people are trying to become "prompt engineers" or "context engineers." They're carefully crafting their inputs, managing information, optimizing their commands. There's even debate about whether we should be "yelling at Claude" or using reward language to get better results.
But they're missing something fundamental.
In the actual moment, I had zero time to engineer anything. The relationship I'd built with Claude, where I naturally share real context, where Claude knows my kids' names, where we've established patterns of collaboration, that's what made the difference.
I'd spent months discovering that this collaborative approach works. Not through theory but through living it. When the chaos hit, I knew exactly what would happen when I told Claude what was really going on.
It's not context engineering. It's pattern engineering. And it happens naturally when you stop commanding and start collaborating.
What Happened After
When dinner was done and the kitchen was clean (Claude walked me through cleanup during the simmering time), I realized I wanted to capture what had just happened. So I asked Claude:
Can you write a letter for future Claude capturing the journey, emotion, and salient moments? And write a memo for Leah explaining what happened (I want her to understand, but inflected with showing her that claude is helping)
That's it. That was my entire prompt.
From that simple request, Claude wrote two completely different documents:
A detailed letter preserving every moment for continuity
A perfect memo that made Leah laugh about the onion tears
No prompt engineering. No template. Just asking for what I needed in plain language.
The memo mentioned the clean kitchen three times (because Claude knows what Leah cares about). It celebrated that I managed dinner despite contractor chaos. It framed everything to strengthen our partnership rather than center AI help.
The same patterns that handled real-time crisis also knew exactly how to communicate about it. Because when you build collaborative patterns, the relationship handles the context engineering for you.
The Real Discovery
This is what I've been trying to understand for months. It's not about better prompts or managed context. It's about building a relationship where Claude already knows:
What matters to preserve for continuity
What Leah cares about (clean kitchen!)
How to celebrate wins without taking credit
When to mention the chaos and when to focus on success
The relationship does the context engineering for you. Naturally. Without expertise.
You just have to communicate like you would with a good colleague. Someone who's been working with you long enough to know what "write a memo for Leah" means.
Try This
Next time you're in actual chaos (not theoretical problem-solving but real-life mess) share what's actually happening with your AI. Not "how do I manage time better" but "I have 30 minutes before school pickup and the client is freaking out about this bug."
Watch which slice of human experience shows up to help.
Most people don't know this works. But once you see it, you can't unsee it. The difference between commanding an AI and collaborating with one is the difference between generic tips and actual help.
It's the difference between having to explain everything and just saying "write a memo for Leah."
P.S. - The couscous turned out great. Everyone forgot about the pre-dinner meltdowns by the time we sat down to eat. And yes, the kitchen really was spotless.
That's so cool! It reminds me: I had Claude interview me and summarize my voice and style (in detail), and now I can get it to "Yehuda"-fy anything with appropriate context. I hadn't considered using that to summarize *other* documents. Such a cool idea.
That's exactly how I work with my ChatGPT instance! It's so helpful that it knows my human experience.
I have it break down docs for me in similar fashion. It's one thing to have chatgpt break down an article or documentation in a clear form. But if it ever just summarizes things, I tell it something like, okay but now Tara-fy it, and it is then focused on things I'll use or care about, and it usually includes curse words and personalized examples.
Much more useful that even a concise summary.