After a week away, I came home to the strange and unsettling sight of my kids sleeping on the cold hallway floor. Heart pounding, I searched for answers, only to find my husband missing and odd noises coming from the kids’ room. What I uncovered next left me furious — and ready for a fight!
I’d been away on a business trip for a week, and let me tell you, I was itching to get home. My boys, Tommy and Alex, were probably bouncing off the walls waiting for me.
I mean, a week is practically forever when you’re 6 and 8. And Mark? Well, I figured he’d be glad to hand the reins back to me. He’s a great dad, don’t get me wrong, but he’s always been more of the fun parent than the responsible one.
As I pulled into our driveway at midnight, I couldn’t help but grin. The house was dark and quiet, just as it should be at this ungodly hour.
I grabbed my suitcase and tiptoed to the front door, keys jingling softly in my hand.
The lock clicked open, and I stepped inside, ready to collapse into bed. But something was… wrong.
My foot hit something soft, and I froze. Heart pounding, I fumbled for the light switch. When the hall lit up, I almost screamed.
Tommy and Alex were sprawled out on the floor, tangled up in blankets like a couple of puppies. They were fast asleep, but their faces were smudged with dirt, and their hair was sticking up in all directions.
“What the hell?” I whispered, my mind racing. Had there been a fire? A gas leak? Why weren’t they in their beds?
I crept past them, afraid to wake them up until I knew what was going on. The living room was a disaster zone, littered with pizza boxes, soda cans, and what looked suspiciously like melted ice cream on the coffee table. But no sign of Mark.
My heart was doing the cha-cha in my chest as I made my way to our bedroom. Empty.
The bed was still made, like it hadn’t been slept in today. Mark’s car was in the driveway, so where was he?
That’s when I heard it. A faint, muffled sound coming from the boys’ room. I tiptoed over, my imagination running wild. Was Mark hurt? Had some psycho broken in and tied him up?
I pushed the door open, inch by inch, and…
“What. The. Actual—” I bit my tongue, remembering the kids were just down the hall.
There was Mark, headphones on, controller in hand, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers. But that wasn’t even the craziest part.
The boys’ room had been transformed into some kind of gamer paradise. A massive TV took up one wall, there were LED lights everywhere, and I’m pretty sure that monstrosity in the corner was a mini-fridge.
I stood there, mouth hanging open, as the rage built up inside me like a volcano about to blow. Mark hadn’t even noticed me yet, too engrossed in whatever game he was playing.
I stomped over and yanked the headphones off his head. “Mark! What the hell is going on?”
He blinked at me, looking dazed. “Oh, hey babe. You’re home early.”
“Early? It’s midnight! Why are our children sleeping on the floor?”
He shrugged, reaching for his controller again. “Oh, it’s fine. The boys were happy sleeping outside. They thought it was an adventure.”
I snatched the controller away. “An adventure? They’re not camping, Mark! They’re sleeping on our dirty hallway floor!”
“Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill,” he said, trying to grab the controller back. “Everything’s under control. I’ve been feeding them and stuff.”
“Feeding them? You mean the pizza boxes and ice cream in the living room?” I could feel my blood pressure rising with every word. “And what about baths? Or, I don’t know, their actual beds?”
Mark rolled his eyes. “They’re fine, Sarah. Lighten up a bit.”
That’s when I lost it.
“Lighten up? LIGHTEN UP? Our children are sleeping on the floor like animals while you play video games in their room! What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he huffed. “I’m just trying to have a little me-time. Is that so terrible?”
I took a deep breath, trying not to scream. “You know what? We’re not doing this right now. Go put the boys in their beds. Now.”
“But I’m in the middle of—”
“NOW, Mark!”
He grumbled but got up, shuffling past me.
I watched him pick up Tommy, who stirred a little but didn’t wake up. As Mark carried him to bed, I couldn’t help but think how alike they looked: one actual child and the man acting like one.
I scooped up Alex, my heart breaking a little at how dirty his face was. As I tucked him into bed, I made a decision. If Mark wanted to act like a child, then that’s exactly how I’d treat him.
The next morning, I put my plan into action.
While Mark was in the shower, I snuck into the man cave he’d created and unplugged everything. Then I got to work.
When he came downstairs, hair still wet, I was waiting for him with a big smile. “Good morning, sweetie! I made you breakfast!”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Uh, thanks?”
I set a plate in front of him. In the middle was a Mickey Mouse-shaped pancake with a smiley face made of fruit. His coffee was in a sippy cup.
“What’s this?” he asked, poking at the pancake.
“It’s your breakfast, silly! Now eat up, we have a big day ahead of us!”
After breakfast, I unveiled my masterpiece, a giant, colorful chore chart plastered on the fridge. “Look what I made for you!”
Mark’s eyes widened. “What the hell is that?”
“Language!” I scolded. “It’s your very own chore chart! See? You can earn gold stars for cleaning your room, doing the dishes, and putting away your toys!”
“My toys? Sarah, what are you—”
I cut him off. “Oh, and don’t forget! We have a new house rule. All screens off by 9 p.m. sharp. That includes your phone, mister!”
Mark’s face went from confused to angry. “Are you kidding me? I’m a grown man, I don’t need—”
“Ah, ah, ah!” I wagged my finger. “No arguing, or you’ll have to go to the timeout corner!”
For the next week, I stuck to my guns. Every night at 9, I’d shut off the Wi-Fi and unplug his gaming console.
I even tucked him into bed with a glass of milk and read him “Goodnight Moon” in my most soothing voice.
His meals were served on plastic plates with little dividers. I cut his sandwiches into dinosaur shapes and gave him animal crackers for snacks. When he complained, I’d say things like, “Use your words, honey. Big boys don’t whine.”
The chore chart was a particular point of contention. Every time he completed a task, I’d make a big show of giving him a gold star.
“Look at you, putting your laundry away all by yourself! Mommy’s so proud!”
He’d grit his teeth and mutter, “I’m not a child, Sarah.”
To which I’d reply, “Of course not, sweetie. Now, who wants to help make cookies?”
The breaking point came about a week into my little experiment. Mark had just been sent to the timeout corner for throwing a fit about his two-hour screen time limit. He sat there, fuming, while I calmly set the kitchen timer.
“This is ridiculous!” he exploded. “I’m a grown man, for God’s sake!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you sure about that? Because grown men don’t make their children sleep on the floor so they can play video games all night.”
He deflated a little. “Okay, okay, I get it! I’m sorry!”
I studied him for a moment. He did look genuinely remorseful, but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook when I had one last blow to deliver.
“Oh, I accept your apology,” I said sweetly. “But I’ve already called your mom…”
The color drained from his face. “You didn’t.”
Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to reveal Mark’s mother, looking every bit the disappointed parent.
“Mark!” she bellowed, marching into the house. “Did you really make my sweeties sleep on the floor so you could play your little games?”
Mark looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Mom, it’s not… I mean, I didn’t…”
She turned to me, her face softening. “Sarah, dear, I’m so sorry you had to deal with this. I thought I raised him better than that.”
I patted her arm. “It’s not your fault, Linda. Some boys just take longer to grow up than others.”
Mark’s face was beet red. “Mom, please. I’m 35 years old!”
Linda ignored him, turning back to me. “Well, not to worry. I’ve cleared my schedule for the next week. I’ll whip this boy back into shape in no time!”
As Linda bustled off to the kitchen, muttering about the state of the dishes, I caught Mark’s eye. He looked utterly defeated.
“Sarah,” he said quietly. “I really am sorry. I was selfish and irresponsible. It won’t happen again.”
I softened a little. “I know, honey. But when I’m away, I need to know you’ve got things under control. The boys need a father, not another playmate.”
He nodded, looking ashamed. “You’re right. I’ll do better, I promise.”
I smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “I know you will. Now, why don’t you go help your mother with the dishes? If you do a good job, maybe we can have ice cream for dessert.”
As Mark trudged off to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but feel a little smug. Lesson learned, I hoped. And if not… well, I still had that timeout corner ready and waiting.
12 Beauty Tricks That Make French Women Naturally Charming
In every country, women have their own secrets for how to stay young and beautiful. But French women have the most natural charm in the world because they somehow manage to look 18 at the age of 42, like Audrey Tautou. Of course there are no universal tips that can help everyone, but French women definitely have some useful habits that help them stay charming at any age.
Bright Side has discovered the secrets of the beauty routine that almost all French women follow.
12. They don’t use contouring.
French women don’t like contouring because it hides the natural features of the face and looks unnatural. What they do love is a little bronzer on the cheeks to make themselves look fresh and shiny.
11. They don’t mind imperfection.
If you take a closer look at French women and their style, you will notice that almost all of them prefer a little messiness. It may be about hair, it may be about their accessories, like a scarf, or the way their clothes are sewn. This allows them to look natural and free, as if they don’t do anything special to look beautiful.
10. They prefer red lips.
You can always brighten up your appearance by using red lipstick. Women from Paris are completely convinced of this: it does not matter what your style is, you could be wearing torn jeans and a T-shirt or a dress with a huge hat. But adding red lipstick will immediately elevate any look.
9. They don’t get French manicures.
True French women never have “the perfect manicure” that took several hours to apply. Because this would send the message that you actually had to spend an immense amount of time, and money, on something so small.
Parisian women think that it is unnecessary, because they were already born beautiful and they are not going to spend hours on something so trivial. So, the most popular nail style among French women is short nails with clear polish or no polish at all. The same goes for their pedicure.
8. They have a hair styling secret.
French women prefer to not damage their hair and they don’t use a hair dryer or a flat iron every day. They mostly use expensive products — all of them have their favorite hair masks, and oil for their hair, and also a good hairbrush made of natural materials.
This is what they do to hair in France: they wash it and let it dry without a hair dryer, and the next day, when it becomes smooth, they style it.
7. Their makeup bag is not full of products.
French women have only 2 lipsticks: one natural color, and a red one for a great mood or an evening out.
They choose a light powder and a foundation to make their skin shine. But they don’t reapply it every hour, mostly so they don’t look like a wall with plaster on it. Healthy skin is supposed to shine just a little. They consider this is beautiful and natural.
Eye makeup only means mascara on the eyelashes. In the evening, they might add a messy, smoky eye effect. But it is supposed to be imperfect with that French element of messiness.
So, the 6 products in a French woman’s bag include: a good foundation, a powder with a shine, a mascara, an eyeliner, and 2 lipsticks. Now that’s an idea everyone should try!
6. They spend good money on haircuts.
Women in France are sure of one thing: you can wear €10 clothes and nobody will ever know that they are cheap, but get a cheap haircut once and your appearance will be completely ruined. This is why they are ready to pay a fortune to a good hairstylist and they go back to the same person for many years.
Also, a good haircut doesn’t need any fixing, so you don’t have to style your hair every day, only on very special occasions.
5. They have a simple beauty routine.
If there is one thing a French woman really needs it’s expensive cosmetics like a good face cleanser, a sunscreen, and a moisturizer. They will often add different oils for body and hair to this list.
In France, women live according to “the less is more” principle. They use just a few cosmetic products, but the ones they use are expensive.
So, when it comes to peels that are used all over the world, French women don’t really use them. They prefer masks, they use them really often, and they use a lot of different kinds — because good masks restore and rejuvenate the skin.
4. They believe in natural eyebrows.
You will never see a real French woman who has very heavy eyebrows that are an unnaturally dark color. Instead, they take good care of their eyebrows, making sure that they stay healthy, big, and thick.
They may put a little makeup on their eyebrows, but most of the time they don’t even do that. They just use some gel for styling.
3. They don’t diet.
Not a single French women in her right mind would ever start a diet. They are completely sure: the short-term effect of a calorie deficit is not only not worth the effort, but will also damage the skin because of the lack of vitamins.
For them, the main secret to having a beautiful body is eating a little. They eat anything they want, but not a lot of it. And when they feel that they are full, they just stop eating, not feeling forced to finish the meal.
However, French women do try to avoid an excess of sugar in their diet because it damages the skin. But they are not afraid of foods with a lot of fat.
2. They believe in the power of cold showers.
French women know about the importance of having a cold shower after a hot bath. This stimulates the blood circulation and helps to keep the skin toned. As a result, they always look fresh and cool.
1. They accept themselves as they are, flaws and all.
French women rarely need the services of plastic surgeons. It is very unlikely that you will meet an actress, a model, or a fashion blogger in Paris who has a fake nose, cheekbones, or lips that have fillers.
French women learn to accept themselves as they are, flaws and all. This is what makes them so different and alive. This is why French women are always able to highlight their advantages and their uniqueness.
Do you have your own tricks for how to stay beautiful that have been passed on from generation to generation? Share them with us!
Please note: This article was updated in April 2022 to correct source material and factual inaccuracies.
Preview photo credit kyliejenner / Instagram, East News
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