A man, like Orville, comes into the kitchen. He's hungry and his wife isn't around. I'm sort of a maid. He shows me a frying pan he's going to cook something in. It's messy. I feel slightly guilty. I start scrubbing it. He is relieved. He won't have to do his own dinner. He says, "Could you start by sauteing some mushrooms?" I nod yes. As I am scrubbing, I think of his wife and my mother and how they had to put aside their entire life to take care of their men. I think, "No wonder they are so angry!"