Imagine it is Christmas or Easter or some family event which has entailed a fair amount of preparation. You have various family members staying so you have made beds and tidied the house accordingly. There were groceries to be bought and meals planned to feed a small tribe for a few days. Presents were arranged for the various children. Tables have been set. Schedules were managed to meet the interests of as many family members as possible. You have done all that leg work single-handedly and it is now time to start cooking for the main event.
Now imagine your husband walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge. Thank god, you think to yourself. He’s getting the turkey out to start basting. Except he’s not. He grabs a beer and says he’s about to watch the football.
That exact scene played out in US journalist Brigid Schulte’s home on Thanksgiving a few years ago.
