What Did You Do All Day?

Let's settle this once and for all.

People who work outside of the home: You are NOT allowed to ask your stay-at-home spouse what they did all day when you walk through the door and see the shitateous state of your home.

You are not allowed to even imply the question with judgmental glances around a kitchen that looks like a pack of drunk gorillas spent the day making pancakes. 

You're not allowed to say "WOW" under your breath when you walk into a living room that looks like it hosted a Babies R Us sponsored political protest earlier that afternoon. You might get a whiff of a balled up poop diaper that's chilling by the door. Be a doll and take it outside, k? If you step on a grape, there's no reason to get dramatic. It's fruit, not a landmine. You're gonna be alright.

Expect to see a few laundry baskets with a mix of clean and dirty clothes. The sink might be full of dishes. Your bed will probably be unmade. A fine layer of crumbs may or may not be everywhere.

You know why? Because June Cleaver is not a real person. She is not a sleep-deprived mom running on fumes, who runs around making sure her toddler doesn't break his face on the furniture. She doesn't make meal after rejected meal. She doesn't change 400 diapers a day or get pissed on so regularly that she doesn't even consider urine a valid reason to change clothes. June Cleaver had no responsibilities outside of learning her lines and pretending to vacuum in pearls.

"What Did You Do All Day" are fighting words to a parent who is probably going on Day #3 with the same underwear. It's an unacceptable question to a person who can't remember the last time they took a shit without someone watching or, even better, sitting directly in their lap asking for food. Did you poop by yourself today? Good for you. They didn't.

"What Did You Do All Day" implies to someone who is giving all they can, that they didn't do enough. And that's a fast-track to driving them absolutely batshit crazy.

Spending entire days and nights serving small children like a butler is draining. Tantrums are frequent. There is little to no adult-interaction. The demands are nonstop and flow constantly like a case of vicious diarrhea. In stay-at-home parenting you usually either have the choice of actual parenting- ie. making sure a kid doesn't take themselves out by choking a coin they found, or cleaning. Which one would you rather have your stay-at-home other half do? Follow your kid around like a potential shoplifter so they don't go face down into the toilet or mop the floors?

Don't even suggest that naptime be spent matching socks. Sometimes it will be. Other times it will spent trying to recharge for the Witching Hour aka HELL. That's if a nap even happens.

Many stay-at-homers do a courtesy speed clean right before their spouse gets home. Consider yourself lucky that you didn't see what your place really looks like after being torn about by kids. It would have scarred you for life.

There are people who manage to keep a spotless house while staying at home with children but most of them are on uppers. They'll deny it. Addicts always do. Look at their pupils. Drugs.

Just be glad when you get home that someone took care of your kid while you did what you needed to do for the family. Because the only acceptable response to "What Did You Do All Day" is a roundhouse to the face and the children don't need to see that.

xoxo Me




I wrote a book called Toddlers Are A**holes. It's a fucking mess. Just like my life.  Get it: Toddlers Are A**holes on Amazon or Barnes & Noble

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