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Posted
Friday, January 09, 2009 1:01 AM
| By
Melinda Henneberger
OK, that's a lie. But I was the breadwinner for a while when we lived in Italy, where this man spent mornings lingering over his cornetto and cappuccino, and got to know everyone in our neighborhood. "Ciao, Bill!'' they all called, every time he stepped outside. Or so it seemed, on the rare occasions I was on the premises. For months, I thought him quite a guy for driving to school every day to retrieve our children—until I picked them up myself one time and met the friendliest mommies there, awed that a male of the species had actually shown up for carpool: "It is not every man who can do what Bill can do,'' this one told me. (Or maybe it was her sister,) Yet he hated not working, was bored reading and lunching and doing the daily shop, and even groused about being surrounded by his gorgeous fellow spouses at dinners—"at the kiddie table again.'' Now, had our roles been reversed, I just know I woulda somehow made the best of it, cause that's the kind of can-do Amer-i-can I am. Only, if being kept is so great, why don't more men aspire to it? The women I know who are professional wives, with multiple houses and a staff, work pretty darn hard at it. And often seem more anxious than your average newspaper reporter about keeping the gig.
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