Given I do 99 percent of the cooking (and cleaning up), the social calendar organizing, travel scheduling (we’re going to Munich and Barcelona in September!), and of course maid service scheduling, is it too much to ask Husband to tell me which box to check when the Old Workplace sends me 27 pages of who-knows-what asking where I’d like my old pension funds placed?

I found out last night that sometimes it is.

I realize that Suze Orman would have had my head. She believes all women should be able to do anything and everything financially related. And, when I was single I did. But, now that I’m married, is it wrong to want a little help? Isn’t that the point of getting married – you’re not in it alone?

Plus, Husband is Financial Genius. So, when Old Workplace says I have two weeks to tell them where to transfer the old pension plan, I naturally gravitate to Husband.

Last night I handed over the two pages that included about eight different options – boxes to check – to basically tell Old Bank where to deposit the funds, when and how. (The other 25 pages were to explain the options. Sure, I’m so much clearer now.)

Husband whipped up a new excel spread sheet to do whatever financial wizardry one does with excel. One hour later, he presented the options. Again, I asked, so which box do I check?

This apparently pushed him over the edge. Husband got immediately frustrated that 1) he had to spend an hour figuring this out at 9 p.m. and 2) I didn’t want to do this myself.

I gently reminded him that he is not the only one who does stuff around here.

Bad move.

We then got into a showdown of Who Does What. Quite frankly I thought I had him when I said, I planned the entire wedding and you just had to show up! He replied, sounds fair to me.

(Note to men everywhere: if you wish to remain married, that is not the right answer. “Showing up” may be half of marriage, but believing that is all you have to do is, well, asking to be single again.)

So, men, around the world, know this: just because we may have 20 years experience around doing stuff ourselves, we don’t always want to. Sometimes we really do want you to just tell us what box to check. (And, that way, men everywhere can stop complaining about older women – how we don’t need you.)

Husband redeemed himself. He did tell me which box to check. Problem solved. Funds transferred. Egos intact. Sigh.