…when you think to yourself (quietly mind you, not out loud where others can hear and judge), “What the hell was I thinking about having children.”
The kind of day that makes you want to just walk out of the house and take a nice, looooong, leisurely stroll somewhere without telling anyone.
Or maybe, you could lock yourself up in your study with a fat glass of rum and coke while you take out your frustrations on unsuspecting 12-year olds in a good old game of “Unreal Tournament” fragging the crap outta the disrespecting little bas…nevermind.
The kind of day where, you’re not mad at your spouse, but where it would be kinda nice to finish up the night in your own private bed, with your own television turned up as loud as you want on something that your spouse wouldn’t normally want you watching because it’s “boring” to them, while you generally sulk and nurse your hurt pride at not being good at this “fathering thing,” without having to worry what your spouse thinks.
…that kind of day.