Happiness has become an abandoned house. Once alive, once full of warmth and activity. Over time, piece by piece, things move away from it until there are only bones and echoes. And I've done it myself, I've watched time come in and take things and done nothing. It's time to rebuild.
The fact that I have to check the toilets more than once a day for clogs is somewhat disconcerting. But only somewhat. And that is something I never thought of when I envisioned parenthood that decade or so ago when I knew it was on the cusp of being a reality. Parenting is (sometimes) the worst thing ever.
Honesty might be the "best policy" but it's one of those things that most us are horrible at practicing. Horrible. We tend to shirk the truth of how we are, or even who we are, for bland safety. In the end we only hurt ourselves by hiding the truth.