Must Be Nice

Recently, at a family function, a nameless person who may or may not be related to me by blood or marriage was commiserating with fellow working moms about the dumbness of bosses.  She turned to me and made the following statement,

 "I guess you caught yourself a rich doctor, good for you. Must be nice.  Must be nice to be able to just stay home and do whatever you want".  

A lot of things flashed through my head. Most of them started with, "actually".
Like: Actually, I caught myself an accounting clerk. 
Actually, he's been a student the whole time I've known him- and we make ends meet- but I'm a long, long way from hiring myself a cabana boy.
Actually, I don't get to do whatever I want.  I'm too busy doing a job that you pay other people to do.  Only, actually, I don't get vacation time. Or sick days.  Or lunch breaks. Or bathroom breaks.
Actually I handle a lot of poo and slobber and it's not that glamorous.
Actually, J works really hard to become a doctor.  So hard that I barely see him.  So hard that he leaves while it's still dark and might not get home until 9 at night, if he gets to come home for the night at all. Which he often doesn't, even on weekends.  And sometimes he is gone altogether for weeks and weeks at a time.
So, actually, the majority of the time I am effectively a single parent, and might go days without having even one adult conversation, or leaving the house, and I have to scrub random stains out of a white coat regularly which really grosses me out and if you think we haven't both paid our dues towards this whole "doctor" business think again. Missy.
Actually. Staying home with kids can be exhausting, mind-numbing, even degrading, and having a husband in medical school can be isolating, frustrating, and stressful.  Actually, it's not exactly a vacation.
Sometimes I think it must be nice to get to wear good clothes and drink a cup of coffee during a quiet commute in the morning.  To get to use your intelligence and education to achieve something that wont be literally eaten the next time you dare to attempt a phone call. Must be nice to be able to take a phone call.  Sometimes I think it must be nice to have co-workers to talk to, about anything that is not Dora the freaking Explorer.
Must be nice to eat dinner with your husband, or to see him at all while you are both conscious. Must be nice to let someone else take over the potty training, the picking up the same puzzle 500 times, the wiping of snot, the answering of "why" for awhile.  And I can't remember, but I bet it must be really nice to go into a restroom, close the door, and pee. All by yourself.  Actually.
I thought all these things in just a flash, Peanuts, I did.  But you know, that was a loaded comment she shot me.  It was, and I decided, hey. Forget all that canned and trite "staying home is work too" business.  I decided to really give her a piece of my mind. And I did! I was brutally honest.  I said, 
"Actually. Yes! It is."