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Having an empty house is not always great.

I know some of you stressed-out dads would not agree. “BLISS,” you’d scream. “HEAVEN,” you would no doubt cry. But seriously, and I say this with the absolute minimum intended smuggary, it really isn’t that great. I have been alone here at chez-tyger for over a month now, and I’m finally starting to give in to cabin fever, pissing in the corner, and eating directly from cans. I haven’t yet begun scrawling threats on the walls, but let’s be honest, it’s only a matter of time.

Yes, you can finally dust off your jazz collection and give those yet-unlistened Christmas presents a good play. And of course you can at last tackle the extended version of the Lord of the Rings DVD box-set. I even resorted to reading the Harry Potter books - all of them, in little over five weeks… surprisingly good (well not that much of a surprise, I guess. I mean, the bloody woman’s richer than Croesus). But once the books have been read, the music exhausted, and you’re finally fed-up with reheated Chinese food and smoked turkey sandwiches, you begin to yearn for the warm care of a woman.

You miss the kids too. While normally I’d agree to group-sex with a gang of repressed Republican congressmen, just for an afternoon away from the madness, after a few days of solitude and silence you sort of wish the little monkeys were around. Knocking stuff over, cracking their heads against cupboards, and typing gibberish on your laptop - it’s all rather endearing in its absence.

So next time you’re dreaming of peace and quiet - yearning for freedom and space, be careful what you wish for…