I couldn’t believe my eyes when my husband, Jake, slid a neatly folded piece of paper across the kitchen table and told me it would help me “become a better wife.” For a moment, I just sat there, stunned, staring at the words written at the top: “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife.”
Oh, he had no idea what was coming.
How It All Started
Jake and I had always been solid. We had our differences, sure, but we respected each other and worked through things like a team. But then, Jake met Steve.
Steve was the kind of guy who talked like he knew everything. He was always giving unsolicited advice, interrupting people, and acting like the world’s biggest authority on relationships. The irony? Steve was single. Always had been.
Yet somehow, he had convinced Jake that he was the ultimate expert on marriage.
At first, I didn’t take it too seriously. Jake had a habit of getting swept up in things—new hobbies, self-help books, whatever trend was promising to change his life. But then, little comments started creeping into our conversations.
“Steve says relationships work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” Jake would say casually.
Or, “Steve thinks women should always put effort into looking good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.”
At first, I rolled my eyes. But then Jake started watching me. If I ordered takeout instead of cooking, he’d raise an eyebrow. If I let the laundry pile up—because, I don’t know, I had a full-time job—he would sigh like I had disappointed him.
And then, he brought home The List.
The List That Changed Everything
Jake sat me down at the table, his face serious. “Lisa, you’re a great wife,” he began, his tone filled with that fake, patronizing sweetness. “But I think there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, completely oblivious to the danger zone he was stepping into. “Yeah. Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
He pushed the list toward me, looking proud of himself. I unfolded the paper, my eyes scanning the ridiculous schedule he had mapped out for me.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make him a gourmet breakfast. Then, I’d go to the gym for an hour to “stay in shape.” After that, my morning was packed with chores—cleaning, laundry, ironing—all before heading to work. Then, after a long day at my job, I was expected to cook dinner from scratch and prepare snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over.
It was absurd. Insulting. And worst of all, it was based on advice from a guy who couldn’t even keep a girlfriend.
Jake was still talking, completely unaware of the silent rage building inside me. “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. “Uh, you know, from having a little more guidance. A schedule.”
I took a deep breath. In that moment, I had two options: scream at him and throw the list in his face… or do something much, much better.
I smiled. “You’re right, Jake. This schedule is amazing. I’ll start tomorrow.”
The relief on his face was instant. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
My Turn
The next morning, I sat down with my laptop and opened a new document. If Jake thought I needed a list, then so did he.
At the top, I wrote: “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.”
I started by listing everything he had put on my schedule—except now, there were price tags attached.
“Gym membership with personal trainer: $1,200 per year.“
If I was expected to hit the gym daily, it was only fair that we invested in a professional to keep me on track, right?
Next, I moved on to food. Jake wanted organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That wasn’t happening on our current grocery budget.
“Gourmet groceries for meal prep: $700 per month. Cooking classes: $500.“
Then came the time factor. If I was supposed to dedicate myself to his vision of the “perfect wife,” I wouldn’t have time for my actual job.
“Lisa’s lost salary: $75,000 per year. To be compensated by Jake.”
Finally, I added a little bonus for him.
“$50,000 for a separate man cave so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s carefully structured life.”
By the time I was done, the list was a financial nightmare. And it was perfect.
The Big Reveal
That evening, Jake came home in a good mood. “Hey, babe,” he called, tossing his keys on the counter. Then he saw the list. “What’s this?”
I smiled sweetly. “Oh, it’s just a little plan I put together to help you become the best husband ever.”
He chuckled, but as he read through the document, the smile disappeared. His face paled. “Wait… $1,200 for a trainer? $700 for groceries? Lisa, what is this?!”
I crossed my arms. “Well, you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., cook, clean, hit the gym, and host your friends. This is what it costs.”
His mouth opened, then closed. He flipped through the pages, his eyes growing wider. “Seventy-five thousand dollars? You’re quitting your job?!”
“How else am I supposed to follow your plan?” I tilted my head, watching him squirm.
Jake rubbed his temples. “Lisa… I didn’t mean… I mean, Steve made it sound so—”
“Steve?” I cut him off. “Jake, do you really want to take marriage advice from a guy who can’t keep a relationship?”
Jake looked at the paper, then at me, then back at the paper. I could see it sinking in.
“Oh my God,” he muttered. “I’ve been such an idiot.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Yep.”
He exhaled and shook his head. “Lisa, I’m sorry. I got carried away. I thought I was improving things, but I was just being… a jerk.”
“Yes, you were.” I softened slightly. “But at least now you see it.”
He picked up the paper, studied it, then grinned sheepishly. “You really went all out, huh?”
I smirked. “Oh, absolutely.”
We ripped up both lists together.
Maybe this was exactly what we needed—a reminder that marriage isn’t about fixing each other. It’s about respecting each other. And if Jake ever forgot that again, well… I’d be ready with another list.
