One of the guys I went to high school and college with, had a pretty eccentric mother. She dressed however she pleased, wrote everything from poetry to opinion pieces for the local paper, loved to travel and spoke three or four languages and was an absolute domestic disaster.
So her two sons did most of the household stuff, from washing, cleaning, dishes and cooking. Dad helped, especially with the cooking, but general surgeons have irregular hours.
But as far as mending a torn garment or sewing a pants hem, dad was the only one who could sew. Using surgical instruments.
That was a hoot to watch.