“Mummy, what can we do? We’ll have to call Daddy!”, my five-year-old daughter Violet panicked when my wife Kasey accidentally dropped a glass that shattered on the kitchen tiles.
As far as Violet was concerned, there was no option but to cordon off the kitchen until I came home to clean up the mess.
While slightly disconcerted by the fact that Violet evidently thinks my wife to be incapable of dealing with broken glass, we were also chuffed. Bucking a large dose of cultural programming, my daughter had come to assume that when it comes to housework, Daddy is the go-to guy.
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