You think you want an intellectual wife, who can discuss your work with you. But it wouldn’t last. After a while you’d start expecting apple pie instead of articles, and then you’d want me to quit work, and if I got promoted and you didn’t, you would sulk, and then if we had a baby you wouldn’t get up in the middle of the night and change its dirty diapers.
Of course, if your academic honey is peaches and cream — or happens not to gender-identify as a ‘husband’ — don’t look daggers at me. Elizabeth Peters said this stuff, not me.
Me, I’ve just started reading her Vicky Bliss series in the middle of chasing yet another deadline. It’s the sort of thing you get to do when you don’t have a husband lying about, tripping you up and gobbling all your unfree time.
Thank god for singledhood. Go (slightly historical) mysteries!