About eight years ago, one of our neighbors got a housekeeper. Some time later, I see that my neighbor has a kid who does chores around the house, too. He was cleaning the entryway, cleaning carpets, shopping for groceries, taking out the trash.
My girlfriend and I began to sneer at the neighbor, like a simple man, but there you go. He went to the bourgeoisie, got servants. But most we were surprised that it’s a boy, not a girl (if you consider the huge weakness of the neighbor to the girls, it was strange). But after about a month and a half it turned out to be his nephew. He came to our town to study and lived with his uncle, who was constantly chasing him around the house.
Somehow later it turned out that we knew each other and we gradually became close. The guy’s name was Max. One day we were going somewhere and were about to leave the apartment when Max remembered that he had forgotten his CDs. He took off his shoes, went into the room to get them, and then we left.
As we walked to our friends, he said to me: “You know, after living at my uncle’s house for only four months, I’ve had a dramatic change in my attitude toward housework. First of all, it’s very hard. And I’m pretty sure I’ll never walk into a room in street shoes again in my life. I will never leave spilled brew on the table or sweep bread crumbs on the floor. I understand my mother and my sister very well now. And secondly, there is nothing shameful about housework for a man, on the contrary.
You know, how nice it was to hear that from a man. And then I thought it would be nice if all the guys thought about this and changed their attitude toward housework.
That was the kind of husband I had always dreamed of. But it didn’t work out. I tried to get my husband and son used to housework, but in vain. I asked him to at least clean up after himself, wash cups and plates, and make the bed. But my husband says he has no time, and my son copies his father.
