I was a stay-at-home dad once, for almost two years. I wasn’t a fan. But that wasn’t my wife’s fault.
It was boring. It was isolating. It was exhausting. That wasn’t my wife’s fault either. (It was my son’s.)
Yes, I bonded with Detective Munch and we had plenty of good times, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t prefer going to work to being home all day. And it’s partly because I remember those days that now that my wife is home with a new baby, I’m determined to help her out as much as I can.