My Husband Refused to Buy a New Washing Machine and Told Me to Wash Everything by Hand — Because He Promised His Mom a Vacation Instead

Six months postpartum, drowning in baby laundry, and exhausted beyond words, I thought my husband would understand when our washing machine broke. But instead of helping, he shrugged and said, “Just wash everything by hand—people did it for centuries.”

I never thought I’d spend this much time doing laundry.

A tired woman in a chair | Source: Pexels

A tired woman in a chair | Source: Pexels

Six months ago, I gave birth to our first baby. Since then, my life had turned into a never-ending cycle of feeding, changing diapers, cleaning, cooking, and washing. So much washing. Babies go through more clothes in a day than an entire football team.

On a good day, I washed at least eight pounds of tiny onesies, burp cloths, blankets, and bibs. On a bad day? Let’s just say I stopped counting.

A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels

A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels

So when the washing machine broke, I knew I was in trouble.

I had just pulled out a soaking pile of clothes when it sputtered, let out a sad grinding noise, and died. I pressed the buttons. Nothing. I unplugged it, plugged it back in. Nothing.

My heart sank.

When Billy got home from work, I wasted no time.

A tired puzzled woman | Source: Pexels

A tired puzzled woman | Source: Pexels

“The washing machine is dead,” I said as soon as he stepped through the door. “We need a new one.”

Billy barely looked up from his phone. “Huh?”

“I said the washing machine broke. We need to replace it. Soon.”

He nodded absently, kicked off his shoes, and scrolled through his screen. “Yeah. Not this month.”

A man on his phone in his living room | Source: Pexels

A man on his phone in his living room | Source: Pexels

I blinked. “What?”

“Not this month,” he repeated. “Maybe next month when I get my salary. Three weeks.”

I felt my stomach twist. “Billy, I can’t go three weeks without a washing machine. The baby’s clothes need to be cleaned properly every day.”

A couple having a serious talk | Source: Pexels

A couple having a serious talk | Source: Pexels

Billy sighed like I was asking for something unreasonable. He put his phone down and stretched his arms over his head. “Look, I already promised to pay for my mom’s vacation this month. She really deserves it.”

I stared at him. “Your mom’s vacation?”

“Yeah. She’s been babysitting for us. I thought it’d be nice to do something for her.”

Babysitting?

A shocked woman | Source: Pexels

A shocked woman | Source: Pexels

I swallowed hard. His mother came over once a month. She sat on the couch, watched TV, ate the dinner I cooked, and took a nap while the baby slept. That wasn’t babysitting. That was visiting.

Billy kept talking like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me. “She said she needed a break, so I figured I’d cover her trip. It’s just for a few days.”

A man talking to his wife in his kitchen | Source: Pexels

A man talking to his wife in his kitchen | Source: Pexels

I crossed my arms. “Billy, your mom doesn’t babysit. She comes over, eats, naps, and goes home.”

He frowned. “That’s not true.”

“Oh, really? When was the last time she changed a diaper?”

Billy opened his mouth, then shut it. “That’s not the point.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I think it is.”

A couple arguing in their kitchen | Source: Pexels

A couple arguing in their kitchen | Source: Pexels

He groaned, rubbing his face. “Look, can’t you just wash everything by hand for now? People used to do that for centuries. Nobody died from it.”

I stared at him, feeling my blood boil. Wash everything by hand. Like I wasn’t already drowning in work, exhausted, aching, and running on three hours of sleep a night.

An angry woman clutching her head | Source: Pexels

An angry woman clutching her head | Source: Pexels

I took a slow, deep breath, my hands clenching into fists. I wanted to yell, to scream, to make him understand how unfair this was. But I knew Billy. Arguing wouldn’t change his mind.

I exhaled and looked at the pile of dirty clothes stacked by the door. Fine. If he wanted me to wash everything by hand, then that’s exactly what I’d do.

The first load wasn’t so bad.

A pile of clothes | Source: Pexels

A pile of clothes | Source: Pexels

I filled the bathtub with soapy water, dropped in the baby’s clothes, and started scrubbing. My arms ached, but I told myself it was temporary. Just a few weeks.

By the third load, my back was screaming. My fingers were raw. And I still had towels, bedsheets, and Billy’s work clothes waiting for me.

A tired woman sitting near a bathtub | Source: Midjourney

A tired woman sitting near a bathtub | Source: Midjourney

Every day was the same. Wake up, feed the baby, clean, cook, do laundry by hand, wring it out, hang it up. By the time I was done, my hands were swollen, my shoulders stiff, and my body exhausted.

Billy didn’t notice.

A bored man on a couch | Source: Pexels

A bored man on a couch | Source: Pexels

He came home, kicked off his shoes, ate the dinner I cooked, and stretched out on the couch. I could barely hold a spoon, but he never once asked if I needed help. Never looked at my hands, red and cracked from hours of scrubbing.

One night, after I’d finished washing another pile of clothes, I collapsed onto the couch next to him. I winced as I rubbed my aching fingers.

Billy glanced at me. “What’s wrong with you?”

A tired woman on her couch | Source: Pexels

A tired woman on her couch | Source: Pexels

I stared at him. “What’s wrong with me?”

He shrugged. “You look tired.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Gee, I wonder why.”

He didn’t even flinch. Just turned back to the TV. That was the moment something snapped inside me.

An annoyed woman in her kitchen | Source: Pexels

An annoyed woman in her kitchen | Source: Pexels

Billy wasn’t going to understand—not unless he felt the inconvenience himself. If he wanted me to live like a 19th-century housewife, then fine. He could live like a caveman.

So I planned my revenge.

The next morning, I packed his lunch as usual. Except instead of the big, hearty meal he expected, I filled his lunchbox with stones. Right on top, I placed a folded note.

A lunchbox filled with rocks | Source: Midjourney

A lunchbox filled with rocks | Source: Midjourney

Then I kissed his cheek and sent him off to work.

And I waited.

At exactly 12:30 PM, Billy stormed through the front door, red-faced and furious.

“What the hell have you done?!” he shouted, slamming his lunchbox onto the counter.

I turned from the sink, wiping my hands on a towel. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

A laughing woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A laughing woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney

He flipped open the lid, revealing the pile of rocks. He grabbed the note and read it out loud.

“Men used to get food for their families themselves. Go hunt your meal, make fire with stones, and fry it.”

His face twisted in rage. “Are you out of your damn mind, Shirley? I had to open this in front of my coworkers!”

I crossed my arms. “Oh, so public humiliation is bad when it happens to you?”

A shouting man wearing glasses | Source: Pexels

A shouting man wearing glasses | Source: Pexels

Billy clenched his jaw. He looked like he wanted to yell, but for once, he didn’t have a comeback.

I crossed my arms and tilted my head. “Go on, Billy. Tell me how this is different.”

His jaw tightened. “Shirley, this is—this is just childish.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I see. So your suffering is real, but mine is just me being childish?”

An angry woman lecturing her husband | Source: Pexels

An angry woman lecturing her husband | Source: Pexels

He threw his hands in the air. “You could have just talked to me!”

I stepped forward, fire burning in my chest. “Talked to you? I did, Billy. I told you I couldn’t go three weeks without a washing machine. I told you I was exhausted. And you shrugged and told me to do it by hand. Like I was some woman from the 1800s!”

A woman turning away from her husband | Source: Pexels

A woman turning away from her husband | Source: Pexels

His nostrils flared, but I could see the tiny flicker of guilt creeping in. He knew I was right.

I pointed at his lunchbox. “You thought I’d just take it, huh? That I’d wash and scrub and break my back while you sat on that couch every night without a care in the world?”

Billy looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

A sad man clutching his head | Source: Pexels

A sad man clutching his head | Source: Pexels

I shook my head. “I’m not a servant, Billy. And I’m sure as hell not your mother.”

Silence. Then, finally, he muttered, “I get it.”

“Do you?” I asked.

He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Yeah. I do.”

A tired man rubbing his temples | Source: Pexels

A tired man rubbing his temples | Source: Pexels

I watched him for a long moment, letting his words settle. Then I turned back to the sink. “Good,” I said, rinsing off my hands. “Because I meant it, Billy. If you ever put your mother’s vacation over my basic needs again, you’d better learn how to start a fire with those rocks.”

Billy sulked for the rest of the evening.

An angry man in a hoodie | Source: Pexels

An angry man in a hoodie | Source: Pexels

He barely touched his dinner. He didn’t turn on the TV. He sat on the couch, arms crossed, staring at the wall like it had personally betrayed him. Every now and then, he sighed loudly, like I was supposed to feel bad for him.

I didn’t.

For once, he was the one uncomfortable. He was the one who had to sit with the weight of his own choices. And I was perfectly fine letting him stew in it.

A woman reading a book on a couch | Source: Pexels

A woman reading a book on a couch | Source: Pexels

The next morning, something strange happened.

Billy’s alarm went off earlier than usual. Instead of hitting snooze five times, he actually got up. He got dressed quickly and left without a word.

I didn’t ask where he was going. I just waited.

That evening, when he came home, I heard it before I saw it—the unmistakable sound of a large box being dragged through the doorway.

A large box in the doorway | Source: Midjourney

A large box in the doorway | Source: Midjourney

I turned around and there it was. A brand-new washing machine.

Billy didn’t say anything. He just set it up, plugging in hoses, checking the settings. No complaints. No excuses. Just quiet determination.

When he finished, he finally looked up. His face was sheepish, his voice low.

“I get it now.”

A sorry man covering his face | Source: Pexels

A sorry man covering his face | Source: Pexels

I watched him for a moment, then nodded. “Good.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh… should’ve listened to you sooner.”

“Yeah,” I said, crossing my arms. “You should have.”

He swallowed, nodded again, then grabbed his phone and walked away without argument or justification. Just acceptance. And honestly? That was enough.

A satisfied smiling woman | Source: Pexels

A satisfied smiling woman | Source: Pexels

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My Ex Ruined My Day at Work, I Brilliantly Took Revenge on Him the Same Day — Story of the Day

Miranda, a hardworking young Mexican woman, faces a challenge when her ex tries to humiliate her at her job. Miranda is scared to act because her job is at stake, but the pain her ex caused pushes her. Despite the risk of losing her employment, she finds a way to make him pay for his actions.

Miranda’s breakup with her ex had been a public affair, which had plunged her into depression. As an immigrant trying to build a life in a new country, she knew she had to keep working to keep herself afloat. But it seemed like her problems never ended. One day, she was late to her job at the restaurant again and had to explain the situation to her boss, Michael, in the restaurant kitchen.

“I’m really sorry for being late again, Michael. A lot has been happening… my boyfriend and I broke up, and everyone knows about it,” Miranda said quietly.

“Miranda, what happens in your life is your thing, but it’s a problem for me if it messes with your work. I need you here on time, ready to work. This is your final warning,” Michael said seriously.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

Miranda said she’d do better, but things got harder when she saw her ex, Colin, and his girlfriend Leslie, at a table in the restaurant. She asked Michael if she could avoid serving them, but he said no, pointing out the need to stay professional.

“We all have tough stuff to deal with, Miranda. We’re short on people, and I need you to do your job, not run away,” Michael said, not even looking at her.

Miranda had no choice but to serve Colin and Leslie, who were rude and made mean jokes about where she was from.

“Look who we have here, Miranda, serving tables. I guess people from your background really do find their calling in the service industry, huh?” Colin said in a nasty way.

Miranda managed a strained smile and asked if they were ready to order, hiding her turmoil.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

Right then, Colin dropped his fork deliberately, forcing Miranda to retrieve it.

And as Miranda did that, Leslie laughed loudly and clapped. “Look at Miranda! She’s good at picking things up!”

Now, everyone was looking at her, making Miranda feel even worse. She gave the fork back to Colin with a barely steady hand. “Thanks,” Colin said, but he clearly didn’t mean it. “You’re such a team player.”

Miranda tried to stay calm and quickly brought their order, Mexican stew, hoping they would stop being mean. But Colin said the stew wasn’t spicy enough and made a mess by flipping his plate. The mess got all over Miranda’s clothes.

“It’s okay,” she said, trying not to sound upset while she cleaned up. But Leslie kept laughing, and people watched her. So many eyes on her completely shattered the confidence and strength Miranda had tried to muster until now.

She could no longer hold those tears that were welling up in her eyes. She had to go to the kitchen and hide in a corner, and she was so upset she started crying.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

As she broke down into sobs, a voice distracted her. “Here, take this,” it said.

Miranda looked up to see Chef Robert holding a kitchen towel. She knew he was a kind man who helped all his colleagues. Something about his presence made her cry harder as she accepted the towel.

“Look, I don’t want to interfere in your personal life, but you’re stronger than you think, Miranda. You’ve got a spirit that’s much bigger than the problems you’re facing.”

Miranda sniffled, knowing she really needed someone to talk to, so she opened up to Chef Robert. And like a gentleman, he listened as she spoke about her early days with Colin and recalled the time that ruined everything for her. That one time, Colin really wanted to go to a party with her, but she was worried about her schoolwork.

Miranda, Colin, and Leslie were college mates.

“I really should study, Colin,” she had told him. “My grades aren’t looking too good.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

But Colin shook his head, refusing to accept her no as an answer. “Come on, Miranda. You’re smart, and you work so hard. One night off won’t hurt. Please come with me.”

Miranda was stuck. She liked the idea of spending time with Colin but knew she should study. “Let me think about it. I’ll tell you tonight,” she told him finally.

After they kissed and Colin promised her a fun night, Miranda went back to her room feeling excited but also a bit stressed. As soon as she walked in, her roommate — none other than Leslie — interrupted her.

“What’s going on, Miranda? You look so happy. And where did those flowers come from?” she asked. If only Miranda knew the girl was a wolf in sheep’s clothing…

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

“It’s Colin. He’s been so sweet, and I really like him. He invited me to a party, but I’m worried about my exams.”

“Miranda, you’ve got to enjoy life too. Don’t miss out because of exams!” Leslie said. “Come on, this is the time to have fun!”

“Les, I really need to study.”

“You’re a smart cookie, Miranda. Taking one night off won’t mess up your future. Have fun at the party with Colin. Trust me, and GO!”

Feeling a bit more confident that one night wouldn’t hurt her studies, Miranda decided to accept Colin’s invite and called him. “I’ll be there, Colin. This night is important to you, so it’s important to me too,” she said.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

But that night, when Miranda walked into the loud club where the party was, she felt a bit out of place. Colin noticed and handed her a drink, “Here, drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”

Miranda couldn’t say no. As the alcohol kicked in, she forgot about all her worries, enjoying the music and dancing, feeling really free.

The next morning, Miranda woke up in a strange place, her clothes all over the floor. She was scared to find herself undressed, around other girls and boys, also barely dressed, just sleeping around.

As she remembered bits and pieces of the night with Colin, a chill ran down her spine. She quickly called a taxi to go back to her college dorm, worried about what others would think if they found her like that.

Back at college, everyone was whispering and looking at her. Miranda had no idea why.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

She was feeling upset and lonely and really wanted to talk to Leslie, but Leslie wasn’t there. Neither Leslie nor Colin answered her calls. Then, the college dean called her, upset about some embarrassing videos and photos, and mentioned that she would be expelled.

Miranda was devastated and went to find Colin for help. But when she found him, he was with Leslie, and they were both laughing meanly.

“Look who’s here,” Colin sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. “Came running back to me, Miranda? Thought I could fix your little problem?”

Leslie’s grin was just as mocking. “Oh, Miranda, did you really think Colin was interested in you? It was all a bet,” she revealed. “Two weeks. That’s all it took for him to get you to play the fool. And now, look at you, practically begging for his help.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

Miranda felt so hurt and alone as she listened to them laugh at her. She knew they had tricked her and she had lost so much, but she also felt a spark of determination to overcome this.

After sharing the details of her past that brought her to this restaurant as a waitress, Miranda decided she wanted revenge on Colin and Leslie. “Robert, can you help me? Make their food super spicy, just once?” she asked.

Robert was unsure, worrying about the restaurant’s image, but Miranda was firm. “I really need this,” she said. “Please, do this for once?”

Robert didn’t want to do that, but somewhere, he, too, felt people like Leslie and Colin deserved a taste of their medicine. “Alright, Miranda. But let’s keep it low-key,” he suggested.

Miranda mixed up a spicy sauce, not thinking about what might happen to her if her plan was exposed. She was just focused on getting even. “Use this,” she said, giving Robert a sauce-soaked napkin.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

When Colin and Leslie got their food, Leslie mocked her again. “This is spicy? This is what you called a SPICY Mexican stew?” she sneered.

Right then, Colin wiped his mouth with the napkin and was hit by the strong spice. His skin flared a deep red as if he’d been slapped by the very essence of the spice, and his breaths became shallow, desperate gasps.

“Colin, breathe, just try to breathe,” Leslie urged, patting his back. However, when people at the restaurant began to stare and laugh, Leslie’s cheeks flushed red with shame. She realized she had been mean to Leslie, and now, others found amusement in her and Colin’s predicament.

Unable to handle the embarrassment, she blurted out, “This is unbearable! We’re finished!” and quickly left.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

Miranda observed the scene quietly, a hint of a smile on her face. She remembered how they had deceived her, thinking they would be happy together. It seemed fate had other ideas.

Though in pain, Colin loudly yelled that Miranda should lose her job, claiming Miranda ‘messed with his dish,’ and it was then that Michael stepped in with a cool head. He tried the stew and didn’t see any problems. “This dish is perfectly fine, sir. There’s nothing wrong with it,” he declared, spotting the spicy-saturated napkin but discreetly concealing it.

“Also, Miranda’s been with us for a long time. She wouldn’t mess up a meal on purpose,” he said, taking Miranda’s side. At that point, Miranda exchanged a silent look of understanding with her boss, grateful for his help.

Colin looked around for someone to agree with him but found no one. Leslie was gone, and the other customers just watched.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

Then, Michael gave Colin some friendly advice. “You know, Colin, sometimes the heat comes not from the food but from how we act towards others. Maybe think about that, okay?”

Colin was speechless, and Miranda felt a wave of satisfaction. She had found a smart and strong way to stand up for herself and witnessed how empathy and understanding united people.

Michael’s choice to stand up for her and teach Colin about being humble and respectful showed her that even in tough times, there are friends all around.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*