I was stunned when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of blowing up, I played along. Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his newfound approach to marriage.
I’ve always prided myself on being the level-headed one in our marriage. Jake, bless his heart, could get swept up in things pretty easily, whether it was a new hobby, or some random YouTube video that promised to change his life in three easy steps.
But we were solid until Jake met Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought being loudly opinionated made him right, the type that talks right over you when you try to correct him.
He was also a perpetually single guy (who could have guessed?), who graciously dispensed relationship advice to all his married colleagues, Jake included. Jake should’ve known better, but my darling husband was positively smitten with Steve’s confidence.
I didn’t think much of it until Jake started making some noxious comments.
“Steve says relationships work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” he’d say. Or “Steve thinks it’s important for women to look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.”
I’d roll my eyes and reply with some sarcastic remark, but it was getting under my skin. Jake was changing. He’d arch his eyebrows if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and sigh when I let the laundry pile up because, God forbid, I had my own full-time job.
And then it happened. One night, he came home with The List.
He sat me down at the kitchen table, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across to me.
“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice dripping with a condescending tone I hadn’t heard from him before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa. But there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, oblivious to the danger zone he was entering. “Yeah. Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
I stared at the paper in front of me. It was a schedule… and he’d written “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife” at the top in bold.
This guy had actually sat down and mapped out my entire week based on what Steve — a single guy with zero relationship experience — thought I should do to “improve” myself as a wife.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast. Then I’d hit the gym for an hour to “stay in shape.”
After that? A delightful lineup of chores: cleaning, laundry, ironing. And that was all before I left for work. I was supposed to cook a meal from scratch every evening and make fancy snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over to hang out at our place.
The whole thing was sexist and insulting on so many levels I didn’t even know where to start. I ended up staring at him, wondering if my husband had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” he continued, oblivious.
“Steve says it’s important to maintain structure, and I think you could benefit from —”
“I could benefit from what?” I interrupted, my voice dangerously calm. Jake blinked, caught off guard by the interruption, but he recovered quickly.
“Well, you know, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to throw that paper in his face and ask him if he’d developed a death wish. Instead, I did something that surprised even me: I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m so lucky that you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
The relief on his face was instant. I almost felt sorry for him as I got up and stuck the list on the fridge. Almost. He had no idea what was coming.
The next day, I couldn’t help but smirk as I studied the ridiculous schedule again. If Jake thought he could hand me a list of “improvements,” then he was about to find out just how much structure our life could really handle.
I pulled out my laptop, opened up a fresh document, and titled it, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” He wanted a perfect wife? Fine. But there was a cost to perfection.
Advertisement
I began by listing all the things he had suggested for me, starting with the gym membership he was so keen on. It was laughable, really.
“$1,200 for a personal trainer.” I typed, barely containing my giggle.
Next came the food. If Jake wanted to eat like a king, that wasn’t happening on our current grocery budget. Organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That stuff didn’t come cheap.
“$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote. He’d probably need to chip in for a cooking class too. Those were pricey, but hey, perfection wasn’t free.
I leaned back in my chair, laughing to myself as I imagined Jake’s face when he saw this. But I wasn’t done. Oh no, the pièce de résistance was still to come.
See, there was no way I could juggle all these expectations while holding down my job. If Jake wanted me to dedicate myself full-time to his absurd routine, then he’d have to compensate for the loss of my income.
I pulled up a calculator, estimating the value of my salary. Then, I added it to the list, complete with a little note: “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time personal assistant, maid, and chef.”
My stomach hurt from laughing at this point.
And just for good measure, I threw in a suggestion about him needing to expand the house. After all, if he was going to have his friends over regularly, they’d need a dedicated space that wouldn’t intrude on my newly organized, impossibly structured life.
“$50,000 to build a separate ‘man cave’ so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s schedule.”
By the time I was done, the list was a masterpiece. A financial and logistical nightmare, sure, but a masterpiece nonetheless. It wasn’t just a counterattack — it was a wake-up call.
I printed it out, set it neatly on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he finally walked through the door that evening, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called out, dropping his keys on the counter. He spotted the paper almost immediately. “What’s this?”
I kept my face neutral, fighting the urge to laugh as I watched him pick it up. “Oh, it’s just a little list I put together for you,” I said sweetly, “to help you become the best husband ever.”
Jake chuckled, thinking I was playing along with his little game. But as he scanned the first few lines, the grin started to fade. I could see the wheels turning in his head, the slow realization that this wasn’t the lighthearted joke he thought it was.
“Wait… what is all this?” He squinted at the numbers, his eyes widening as he saw the total costs. “$1,200 for a personal trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I leaned against the kitchen island, crossing my arms.
“Well, you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., hit the gym, make gourmet breakfasts, clean the house, cook dinner, and host your friends. I figured we should budget for all of that, don’t you think?”
His face turned pale as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?!”
I shrugged. “How else am I supposed to follow your plan? I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
He stared at the paper, dumbfounded.
The numbers, the absurdity of his own demands, it all hit him at once. His smugness evaporated, replaced by a dawning realization that he had seriously, seriously messed up.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jake stammered, looking at me with wide eyes. “Lisa, I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I just thought —”
“You thought what? That I could ‘improve’ myself like some project?” My voice was calm, but the hurt behind it was real. “Jake, marriage isn’t about lists or routines. It’s about respect. And if you ever try to ‘fix’ me like this again, you’ll be paying a hell of a lot more than what’s on that paper.”
Silence hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Jake’s face softened, his shoulders slumping as he let out a deep sigh.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize how ridiculous it was. Steve made it sound sensible, but now I see it’s… it’s toxic. Oh God, I’ve been such a fool.”
I nodded, watching him carefully. “Yes, you have. Honestly, have you looked at Steve’s life? What makes you think he has the life experience to give you advice about marriage? Or anything else?”
The look on his face as my words hit home was priceless.
“You’re right. And he could never afford to live like this.” He slapped the list with the back of his hand. “He… he has no idea about the costs involved, or how demeaning this is. Oh, Lisa, I got carried away again, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but we’ll recover. Now, let’s tear that paper up and go back to being equals.”
He smiled weakly, the tension breaking just a little. “Yeah… let’s do that.”
We ripped up the list together, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like we were back on the same team.
Maybe this was what we needed, a reminder that marriage isn’t about one person being “better” than the other. It’s about being better together.
MINHA NOIVA SE RECUSOU A TIRAR UMA FOTO COMIGO, DIZENDO QUE EU NUNCA DEVERIA USAR SHORTS, MESMO NO VERÃO — SÓ MINHA NETA ME DEFENDEU.
Era uma vez, em uma pequena cidade, uma avó chamada Evelyn. Ela era uma mulher vibrante na casa dos sessenta, cheia de vida e risos. Todo verão, ela esperava ansiosamente pelas reuniões familiares, especialmente o piquenique anual no parque onde seus filhos e netos se reuniam para comemorar. Este ano, no entanto, as coisas tomaram um rumo inesperado.
Ontem deveria ser um dia divertido em família, cheio de risadas, jogos e comida deliciosa. Evelyn tinha escolhido sua roupa favorita para a ocasião: um short confortável e uma blusa brilhante e alegre. Ela amava a sensação do sol em sua pele e a liberdade que vinha com o uso de shorts. Ao chegar ao parque, ela foi recebida com abraços e sorrisos de sua família, mas mal sabia ela que o dia logo tomaria um rumo azedo.
Enquanto a família se reunia para uma foto em grupo, a nora de Evelyn, Sarah, de repente se recusou a tirar uma foto com ela. “Você nunca deve usar shorts, mesmo no verão”, disse Sarah, sua voz pingando de desdém. “Suas pernas enrugadas me assustam.” Evelyn ficou surpresa, seu coração afundando com a dureza das palavras de Sarah. Ela sempre acreditou que a família deveria elevar uns aos outros, não destruir uns aos outros.
Sentindo-se magoada e atordoada, Evelyn ficou ali, sem saber como responder. Mas quando ela estava prestes a se recolher em sua concha, sua doce neta, Lily, deu um passo à frente. Com uma determinação feroz em seus olhos, ela olhou diretamente para sua mãe e disse: “Nana está ótima, e ela pode usar o que quiser!” As palavras pairaram no ar, uma poderosa declaração de amor e apoio.
Evelyn sentiu uma onda de gratidão inundá-la. Naquele momento, ela percebeu que, embora alguns membros da família pudessem ser críticos, outros conseguiam ver além das aparências e apreciar a essência de uma pessoa. O apoio inabalável de Lily a lembrou de que a beleza vem em muitas formas e que a confiança nunca deve ser sufocada por opiniões ultrapassadas.
Conforme o dia avançava, Evelyn se viu cercada de risos e alegria, graças à bravura de sua neta. Elas brincavam, compartilhavam histórias e aproveitavam o delicioso piquenique. Evelyn sentiu um renovado senso de orgulho, não apenas de si mesma, mas do vínculo que compartilhava com Lily. Era um lembrete de que o amor e a aceitação podiam triunfar sobre o julgamento.
Mais tarde naquela noite, quando o sol começou a se pôr, Evelyn reuniu sua família para uma última foto. Desta vez, ela estava orgulhosa em seus shorts, ladeada por seus filhos e netos, com Lily bem ao seu lado. Todos eles sorriram brilhantemente, capturando um momento que os lembraria para sempre da importância de se defenderem uns aos outros.
Evelyn sabia que enfrentaria julgamento novamente, mas com o apoio de Lily, ela se sentiu fortalecida para abraçar seu verdadeiro eu. Quando olharam para a foto mais tarde, ela não conseguiu deixar de sorrir, sabendo que o amor e a aceitação sempre brilhariam mais do que qualquer crítica.
E assim, a família aprendeu uma lição valiosa naquele dia: celebrar a individualidade e apoiar uns aos outros, não importa o que aconteça. Afinal, a vida é curta demais para se preocupar com o que os outros pensam, especialmente quando cercado por aqueles que realmente amam você.
Leave a Reply