When I went on maternity leave with our two kids, my husband often joked that I was just “relaxing at home.” One day, tired of the teasing, I challenged him to live my life for a day. He laughed and agreed. So the next morning, I handed him the reins and left the house at 9 a.m., curious to see how he’d manage. When I returned that evening, everything looked picture-perfect — the house was tidy, the kids were fed, and dinner was waiting on the table. For a moment, guilt washed over me. Maybe I really wasn’t doing enough.
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