morning head: Monday, 13th July, 2015

Somebody posted a little picture the other day of the parenting triangle. The triangle part, I believe, is merely a way of injecting some visual appeal into the post so they can get a few thousand likes and retweets, rather than four – which is the number of their parent friends who are not too busy trying to defy the rules of the parenting triangle to pay attention to the Facebooks. It goes like this1:

Parenting Triangle

1 – Actually, the original was the Motherhood Triangle. It’s here if anyone (Lorien) wants to go there and ream them out for perpetuating gendered parenting stereotypes.

Throw into that mix a full-time parent who is also trying to change careers, kick start a long-dormant novel, take on paid editing work on the side, and submit short works of fiction to tight deadlines… And you can narrow that choice to 1, and it’s not a choice.

So naturally, when I’m faced with three and a half days to myself, child-free, wife-free, (day) job-free, I have a list of things I can finally just get done. I’m inordinately excited by the prospect of some unfettered productivity. And a clean house.

In response to which, of course, my body goes into protest, strikes me down with some sort of plague, and says stay. the. fuck. in. bed. Oh, and don’t even think about getting all brainy on me, I’m taking that away from you as well. Just you stare at the wall motherfucker, stare at the wall…

Morning, protesters.