“I had to vomit every now and then, but I grew to believe it was a small price to pay for a whole day of me-time.”
Sadly, I know exactly whereof he speaks: I dream of having a vomit-filled day off.
Working Mom occasionally works on a weekend day, and even when she doesn’t, weekends are very much “share-care” time. I can’t remember the last day I had truly, truly “off” that I didn’t spend cleaning out the garage or organizing the hall closet.
You might be wondering why I’m whining to you about all this, rather than just telling WM herself. She’s a loving, intelligent, caring person and I’m sure you know that she’d work out a day off for me if I told her I needed it. I just feel so guilty asking for any time off, sick or not. After all, she’s working hard and missing all sorts of time she’d love to be spending with Boobaby.
Every time I get tired of a task — on the fourteenth load of laundry, say — I think to myself, “You’re doing this so you can stay home with your daughter.” Like housework is my quid pro quo for being allowed to be the homemaker.