I grew up in a house where my dad sat on the couch, beer in hand, while my mom cleaned around him. He always said, “The house is a woman’s job!” and she never complained. So I believed it. Housework? Easy. Women didn’t need help. When my wife Lucy would ask, “Can you set the table?” I’d shrug and say, “That’s your job.” I hated that she was teaching our son, Danny, how to do “women’s chores.” Then one day, Lucy got invited to a conference. She asked, “Think you can handle the house for a day?”
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