When my husband, Keith, announced with a smug grin that he was heading to a luxury resort without me because I “don’t work,” I gave him a sweet smile and let him go. But behind that smile? A storm was brewing. He thought I did nothing all day? Oh, he was about to learn exactly how wrong he was.
For the past three months, I hadn’t slept a full night. Ever since our daughter, Lily, was born, my world had been a cycle of diaper changes, feedings, and desperate attempts to get her to sleep. I loved her more than anything, but the exhaustion was real. Maternity leave wasn’t a vacation—it was the hardest job I had ever done.
That afternoon, I was bouncing Lily in my arms while folding laundry with my free hand. My hair hadn’t been washed in days, and I was wearing the same spit-up-stained T-shirt from the day before. Then, Keith walked in looking fresh, clean, and well-rested in his crisp button-down and slacks. Not a single hair out of place.
“How was your day?” he asked as he dropped his bag by the door.
I forced a smile. “The usual. Lily was fussy most of the afternoon.”
Keith flopped onto the couch, stretching out like he was the one who had been up all night.
“Man, work was brutal today,” he groaned. “Three back-to-back meetings. I’m wiped out.”
I bit my tongue and walked to the oven. “Dinner’s almost ready. Just needs a few more minutes.”
“Great, I’m starving.” Keith grabbed the remote and leaned back, making himself comfortable.
Lily suddenly started crying again. I bounced her gently, whispering, “Shh, baby, it’s okay.” But she wasn’t having it.
Keith sighed and turned up the volume. “It must be nice to stay home all day with her. Like a permanent vacation.”
I froze. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “A vacation? You think this is a vacation?”
Keith shrugged. “You know what I mean. You don’t have to go to work, so you don’t get tired like I do.”
I stared at him, wondering if he had always been this clueless. But before I could respond, the oven timer buzzed. Lily wailed louder.
“Dinner’s ready,” I said flatly, handing him the baby. “Your turn.”
Keith took Lily awkwardly, holding her at arm’s length like she might explode. “But I just got home. I need to relax.”
“And I need to get dinner on the table,” I said, already heading to the kitchen. “Unless you’d rather trade?”
He frowned but didn’t argue. Small victories.
A week later, Keith came home grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Guess what?” he said, dropping his briefcase with excitement.
I was rocking a teething Lily. “What?”
“Mom and Dad invited me to a five-day resort trip in Cancun! All-inclusive. Sun, sand, relaxation. I leave next week.”
I stopped mid-rock. “Wait… what?”
Keith waved a hand. “It’s perfect timing! I really need a break.”
A strange sound escaped me—half laugh, half disbelief. “And me?”
Keith chuckled. “Babe, you don’t work. You’re already on a break.”
I stared at him, feeling pure, undiluted rage course through my veins. But instead of throwing something at his thick skull, I smiled sweetly.
“Of course, dear,” I said smoothly. “Go have fun.”
Keith kissed my cheek and bounded upstairs to pack. Big mistake.
While he prepared for his “well-earned” break, I made plans of my own.
The morning of his departure, I kissed him goodbye. “Have fun, honey.”
“Thanks! See you in five days,” he said, oblivious.
As soon as his car disappeared down the street, I sprang into action.
First, I emptied the fridge. After all, groceries must magically appear since I did nothing all day, right?
Next, I gathered every piece of dirty laundry and piled it in front of the washing machine.
Then, I logged into our joint account and canceled all automatic payments—electricity, water, internet, everything.
Finally, I packed up Lily’s entire nursery. Crib, clothes, diapers—everything went into the car.
I left a single note on the kitchen counter:
“Lily and I are on vacation too. Don’t wait up.”
Then, I turned off my phone and drove to my mom’s house. Freedom never felt so good.
Keith had promised to call every night, so I knew it wouldn’t take long for him to realize something was very wrong.
Two days later, I turned my phone back on. His frantic messages flooded in.
“Sharon, why aren’t you answering? I’m worried.”
“Where ARE you? Where’s Lily?”
“The fridge is EMPTY. I had to eat takeout!”
“WHY is the electricity bill overdue? They’re threatening to shut it off!”
“Where are my WORK CLOTHES? I have a meeting TOMORROW!”
I let him stew for a while before finally replying: “Relax, babe! Since I don’t work, I figured you wouldn’t mind handling things while I took a break too.”
His response was immediate: “I GET IT, OKAY? I was wrong. Please come back.”
Message received.
Two days later, I walked in to find our house in complete chaos. Dishes piled high. Takeout boxes everywhere. Dirty laundry spilling onto the floor. And in the middle of it all, Keith stood, unshaven and exhausted.
“You’re back,” he croaked, eyes filled with relief.
“Looks like you had a relaxing break,” I said, surveying the disaster.
Keith ran a hand through his messy hair. “Sharon, I am so sorry. I was an idiot.”
I crossed my arms. “Go on.”
“I didn’t realize how much you do,” he admitted. “I could barely keep things together for a few days.”
“And?”
“And I was selfish. I should’ve seen how much work taking care of Lily really is.” He sighed. “I swear, I’ll do better.”
I nodded and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Here.”
Keith frowned. “What’s this?”
“A chore list. From now on, we split everything.”
His face paled. “Everything?”
“Yup,” I said cheerfully. “Since I don’t ‘work,’ you should have no problem helping out.”
He swallowed hard but nodded. “That’s fair.”
“Glad you think so.” I patted his arm. “Because I booked a spa day this Saturday. You’re on Lily duty.”
Keith reached for Lily and held her close. “Hey, princess. Daddy missed you.”
Lily gurgled happily, unaware of the power shift in our house.
“I’ll do better,” Keith promised. “I swear.”
I smirked. “You will. Because if you ever suggest that taking care of our daughter isn’t real work again, I’ll take more than just her diapers next time.”
Keith laughed nervously. “Message received.”
Lesson fully learned.
