Mike McGrady, a journalist, reports on his one experimental year as a ""househusband""--ho hah! or tee hee, depending on your lib orientation. The author and his wife Corinne, parents of three and married sixteen years, changed roles. Corinne worked full time at her plastics furnishings business while Mike cooked, shopped and chauffeured. Inevitably Mike found the going rough (the first wave of disbelief at the supermarket line, trying to please wage earner and kids with dinner fare, those two-dentist days--all took their toll). Housekeeping turned out to be a matter of day after day ""devoted to making life easier for others . . . another ho-hummer."" Both husband and wife became intimately acquainted with one another's problems. However this noble result is unfortunately buried in a bulk of anecdotes that are nothing more or less than upsidedown versions of Blondie/ Dagwood stereotyped: Mike complains to Corinne, ""You never take me out anymore;"" and when she is late to dinner, ""Couldn't you have called?"" A most atypical couple (how many women can support a family of five?) and their glossy blueprint for living is primarily run off for mediaprogrammed laughs.