
After dinner, I asked my son, Alex, to wash his plate, and suddenly, he burst out
“Why should I do this? I’m not your slave!” “Slave?” I sighed, trying to stay calm. “How does helping out make you my slave?” Feeling quite superior, Alex shot back, “You don’t pay me, do you? Unpaid work is slavery!” My husband raised an eyebrow. “We support you, son. We give you shelter, feed you,…