Scene: I am working at the dining room table. My Husband is on the computer in the living room (it turns out he is working too, but this is not relevant, because he is going to work in a few hours, and that is his official worktime). My Children are playing all over the house.
My Children: Mommy, we're hungry, can you make us some lunch?
My Husband (quietly): I'll make you lunch.
Me: Why, when you know I am working, and Daddy is right there on the computer, are you asking ME to make you lunch?
My Youngest Child: Because you're our mommy.
So much for feminist childrearing. At least we're doing OK on the feminist husband front (then again, we may simply have scored on the chef husband front).