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Warning:The following Familyman Weekly is strictly a men-only issue. I know if you're a woman you'll be tempted to read this—but think of your husband and then back slowly away from the computer.

Hey Dad,

You know, one of the things I've learned out here on the road is that I don't really do all that much compared to my wife. Sure, I man the helm of the Familyman-mobile, keeping it purring like a kitten, and manage to avoid daily disasters. But aside from that, I've come to the conclusion that my wife does all the really important stuff.

It dawned on me early one morning as I was doing a Wal-Mart run armed with a list and toting my youngest daughter, Maggie Rose, as my assistant. "Where do they keep the peanut butter," I asked her, wondering if it was a vegetable, condiment, or sandwich item.

"I don't know," she said sweetly.

After a ten-minute search, I found it. Now all I had to do was find the remaining 20 items—and pick out a birthday card. Man, there were a lot of them to choose from. How does my wife manage to get cards for all of our extended family?

With Maggie Rose riding shotgun, the thought began to churn in my mind that my wife does a whole bunch of stuff that I take for granted. And then I remembered our time at the state park near St. Louis we'd just stayed at.

We'd stopped there to take showers, do laundry, and dump our holding tank. It was dark out by the time I went to take my shower, so I volunteered to fold the last of the six loads of laundry that my wife had done.

In man-like innocence, I opened the dryer door, and out tumbled more shirts, shorts, and underwear than I'd ever seen in my whole life. I assumed she'd jammed the whole five loads into one dryer. But after folding clothes for a while, I realized it was just one load.

I began to ponder just how many loads of monotonous laundry my wife has folded, how many jars of peanut butter she's bought, and how many cards she's picked out. That's when it hit me: I don't do anything! Or at the very least, I've forgotten how much my wife does that goes unthanked.

I need to tell her how much I appreciate all she does, I told myself. I decided to pick out a thank you card to thank my wife for the loads of laundry, tons of groceries, and the hundred other things she does to make our life comfortable.

You know, Dad, I'd just about bet that you've forgotten that your wife does much of the same for you too. So why don't you pick up a card (or make one) and let her know in writing how much you appreciate her.

You 'da Dad,

PS: If by some unexplainable chance you're a mom and read this—act surprised if your husband gets you a thank you card—and don't be disappointed if he doesn't.

© 2007 Todd Wilson. Used by permission.

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