Marriage is a partnership built on respect, love, and equality. So, you can imagine my shock when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule outlining how I could “become a better wife.” Instead of reacting with anger, I decided to teach him a lesson he’d never forget. Spoiler: Jake never saw it coming.
Jake and I had always shared a strong bond. Like all couples, we had our ups and downs, but we were equals in every sense. Jake, however, had a tendency to get swept up in new ideas—whether it was a random YouTube video or a new hobby he felt compelled to master. Normally, I didn’t mind. But things changed when Jake started hanging out with Steve.
Steve was one of those guys who had an opinion on everything—relationships, fitness, career advice—you name it. The irony? Steve was perpetually single. But that didn’t stop him from dispensing marriage advice to my husband. Before long, Jake started repeating Steve’s views on relationships, and let’s just say, they weren’t exactly modern.
It started with small comments. “Steve says marriages work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” Jake would casually mention, as if Steve was some kind of relationship guru. Or worse, “Steve thinks women should always look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.” I rolled my eyes, assuming Jake would grow out of this phase. But his attitude started to shift.
Jake became more critical, sighing when I ordered takeout after a long day at work or giving me a raised eyebrow over the laundry pile. Suddenly, the man who had always seen me as his equal began to view me through the lens of outdated, sexist expectations. But I wasn’t prepared for what came next.
One evening, Jake came home looking particularly pleased with himself. He sat me down and slid a piece of paper across the table. “Lisa,” he said, “you’re an amazing wife, but Steve made me realize there’s room for improvement.”
I stared at him in disbelief. Improvement? I had a full-time job, managed our household, and now, apparently, I needed to be “better”? With a straight face, Jake added, “Steve helped me create a schedule for you. It’s just to help you be the best wife you can be.”
I unfolded the paper and read the title: “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife.” The list was filled with absurd tasks. I was expected to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast, hit the gym for an hour, clean the house, do laundry, and iron his clothes—all before heading to work. Evenings were for cooking dinner from scratch and preparing snacks for when his friends came over. It was sexist, insulting, and overwhelming.
But instead of flipping out, I smiled sweetly. “You’re right, Jake. I’ll start tomorrow.” He beamed, thinking he’d won. Little did he know, I had a plan.
The next morning, I revisited the ridiculous list and decided to make a schedule of my own—this time for Jake. If I was expected to “improve,” surely Jake would need to make some changes too. I sat down at my laptop and typed up “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.”
First, I figured he’d need a personal trainer to stay in shape, just like he wanted for me—$1,200 a year sounded fair. Next, with his desire for organic, non-GMO groceries, that would cost an extra $700 per month. I added a cooking class because, well, perfection takes practice. The real kicker? If I was going to follow his schedule, I wouldn’t have time for work. So Jake would need to replace my salary—$75,000 a year, plus $50,000 for the “man cave” where his friends could hang out.
By the time I finished, the list was a masterpiece. I printed it out and left it on the counter, eagerly awaiting Jake’s reaction. When he came home, he found the paper and asked, “What’s this?”
“Oh, just a little list I made to help you become the best husband ever,” I replied, grinning. Jake laughed at first, but as he read through the details—$1,200 for a trainer, $75,000 to replace my salary, and $50,000 for the man cave—his face turned pale. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”
I crossed my arms. “Well, you expect me to be a full-time cook, cleaner, and hostess. We’d need to budget for that.”
It was then that Jake finally understood. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he stammered. “I thought…”
“You thought I’d follow this absurd schedule?” I interrupted. “Marriage is about respect and partnership, not control.”
Jake apologized, realizing how ridiculous his demands had been. We tore up both lists, laughing as we did. In the end, Jake learned his lesson: marriage is about growing together, not fixing each other. And one thing’s for sure—he won’t be taking any more advice from Steve.
