“Well, sort of. But not really, to tell you the truth. My wife always dealt with that.”
I force another smile. “Kate’s pretty good about it—but you know, she gets tired sometimes, too.”
“Yeah,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. “But women are built for that kind of s**t,” he adds, and if only that coffee were hot enough to burn his mouth.
“I guess,” I say, over the small talk. I’m ready to cut to the chase.
He, however, apparently isn’t. “You think our fathers were up at night? You think they were changing diapers and wiping mouths? No. I’ll tell you what they were doing: they were working their asses off to put food on the table—they were going to war. They were the kind of men that made this country great. Now, look at us. We’ve got men thinkin’ they need twelve weeks leave becaus
