I Thought Housework Was Easy — My Son Taught Me a Lesson I’ll Never Forget

I always thought housework was easy, something women exaggerated. But when my wife, Lucy, left me alone for a day to manage the house and our son, Danny, I realized I was wrong.

Exhausted from work, I ignored Lucy’s request to set the table, dismissing it as “her job.” I even told Danny, “Boys don’t do housework.” The next day, Lucy left for a work conference, and I was in charge. I overslept, burnt toast, and ruined a shirt ironing. Lunch? I charred the chicken, setting off the smoke alarm. The dishwasher baffled me. I was exhausted, humbled by tasks I’d belittled.

When Danny got home, he confidently handled the washing machine and dishwasher—skills Lucy taught him. “Mommy needs help,” he said, and it hit me: I’d been blind to her burden, just like my father was with my mother.

The next evening, I joined Lucy and Danny in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. We weren’t just cooking—we were finally sharing the load.