I’m reminded of a story my mother liked to tell, going back to 1952 when she and my father got married. He was a musician and composer, so he worked partly from home. One day he picked up a broom and offered to help with the cleaning, but she insisted that she would take care of it and that he had more important things to do.
I’m reminded of a story my mother liked to tell, going back to 1952 when she and my father got married. He was a musician and composer, so he worked partly from home. One day he picked up a broom and offered to help with the cleaning, but she insisted that she would take care of it and that he had more important things to do.
He never offered again.