A while ago my wife, Jasmin, asked me to help her in the kitchen. I had recently graduated from a demanding year-and-a-half-long language course, so I had time to learn to cook. “Cube the chicken,” she asked. I went to the kitchen counter with a knife and lightly sawed the meat. While cutting my first and only slice of chicken, I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise; my wife was staring at me. “You’re taking so long,” she groaned. It had taken me nearly a minute to separate one strip of chicken. “Here,” she sighed. “Just put a tablespoon of oil on the pan, I’ll do the rest.” And I poured a teaspoon instead.

  I’ve been married less than six months and I still have many lessons to learn before I become an adept spouse; I can’t cook and I still grumble when we do chores…