What an evening. First wife announces that she's making chicken parm for dinner. Since she knows I hate chicken, I assume I'm on the shit list. So I think oh no but then she tells me she has an alternative for me. Phew. Then she tells me that the stove had an issue (meaning she stopped all over it) and will need my attention. I say since when is the stove my job? Daughter says Dad, you've cleaned the stove for as long as I've been alive, I thought it was a traditional man job. 1 of 2.