Or perhaps, rather, THE Epiphany. And I wouldn’t even mention it except it’s a national holiday here in the most secular-by-choice country EVER. (Okay, there are probably others that are equally secular, but I’ve never lived in them.)
Folks familiar with the Christian church calendar probably know what The Feast of Epiphany is (also known as The Adoration of the Magi and Three Kings Day), which gives them an advantage over most Swedes. For the culturally (and religiously) curious, there’s an excellent explanation of the intertwining/overlapping traditions of Christmas and Epiphany here.
But the point of all this rambling is that I was off work today, which meant, according to our current domestic arrangement, I got to be "the housewife." (Dr. Darling is "the housewife" during the week…I always wanted one, it just never occurred to me that said wife would have a Ph.D.)
Now with a family like ours, it isn’t unusual for outsiders to occasionally wonder, "Who gets to be the man?" What’s surprising is how often Dr. Darling and I ask that question ourselves. Neither one of us puts much stock in the "traditional" roles historically assigned to men and women, especially when it comes to relationships, so why we feel inclined to try to fit into them is stupid as well as a mystery.
But sometimes I just really like to lay around on the couch and totally monopolize the remote, and Dr. Darling spends an awful lot of time reading when she’s in the bathroom.