I was shocked when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of losing my temper, I decided to play along. Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his new idea of marriage.
I’ve always been the calm and reasonable one in our relationship. Jake, on the other hand, can easily get caught up in new trends or ideas, whether it’s a hobby or a YouTube video that claims to change his life in just a few easy steps.
Jake and I were fine until he met Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought being loud made him right. He’d talk over anyone who tried to correct him. He was also always single (no surprise there), but that didn’t stop him from giving relationship advice to all his married friends, including Jake. Jake, who should’ve known better, was impressed by Steve’s confidence.
I didn’t worry about it much at first, but then Jake started saying things like, “Steve says marriages work best when the wife handles the household,” or “Steve thinks women should always look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.” I’d roll my eyes and make sarcastic comments, but it was bothering me. Jake was changing. He’d raise an eyebrow if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and he’d sigh if I let the laundry pile up—forgetting that I also had a full-time job.
Then one night, it happened. Jake came home with The List.
He sat me down, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across the table. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, sounding condescending in a way I’d never heard before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa, but there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, not realizing he was walking into dangerous territory. “Yeah, Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
I looked at the paper in front of me. It was a schedule, titled “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife.” Jake had actually written out a plan for me based on what Steve—a single guy with no relationship experience—thought I should do to “improve” as a wife.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast, then go to the gym to “stay in shape.” After that? Cleaning, laundry, ironing—all before heading to work. Every evening, I was to cook dinner from scratch and make snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over. It was sexist and insulting on so many levels, I didn’t know where to start. I just stared at Jake, wondering if he had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” he continued, unaware.
“Steve says it’s important to have structure, and I think you could benefit from—”
“Benefit from what?” I interrupted, keeping my voice calm. Jake blinked, surprised, but quickly recovered.
“Well, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to throw the paper in his face, but instead, I surprised myself—I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m lucky you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
He looked relieved, and I almost felt sorry for him as I stuck the list on the fridge. Almost. He had no idea what was coming.
The next day, I looked at the ridiculous schedule and smiled. If Jake thought he could hand me a list of “improvements,” he was about to learn a lesson. I opened my laptop and started a new document titled, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” If he wanted perfection from me, there was a cost.
I started by listing all the things he’d suggested for me, beginning with the gym. “$1,200 for a personal trainer,” I typed, barely holding back a laugh.
Next was the food. If Jake wanted gourmet meals, that wasn’t happening with our current grocery budget. Organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That wasn’t cheap. “$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote. And if he wanted fancy meals, he’d need cooking lessons too—those were expensive.
I leaned back, laughing as I imagined his face when he saw this. But I wasn’t done. The best part was yet to come.
There was no way I could manage all these demands and keep my job. If Jake wanted me to follow his absurd schedule full-time, he’d have to cover my lost income. I calculated my salary and added it to the list. “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time maid, chef, and personal assistant.”
By now, I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt.
And just for fun, I added a note about expanding the house. If Jake was going to have friends over all the time, they’d need a separate space. “$50,000 to build a man cave so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s new routine.”
I printed out the list, set it on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he arrived, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called, spotting the paper. “What’s this?”
Keeping a straight face, I said, “Oh, just a little list to help you become the best husband ever.”
He chuckled, thinking I was playing along, but as he read the list, his smile faded. “$1,200 for a trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I crossed my arms. “Well, you want me to follow your plan, right? I figured we should budget for it.”
His face turned pale as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?”
“How else can I follow your plan?” I asked. “I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
Jake looked stunned. The numbers and the absurdity of his demands hit him all at once. His smugness disappeared, replaced by the realization that he had messed up.
“I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he stammered. “I just thought—”
“You thought you could ‘fix’ me like a project?” I said, my voice calm but firm. “Jake, marriage is about respect. And if you ever try to ‘fix’ me like this again, it’ll cost you a lot more than what’s on that paper.”
There was a long silence. Jake sighed and looked at me, defeated.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize how ridiculous it was. Steve made it sound reasonable, but now I see… it’s toxic. I’ve been such a fool.”
I nodded. “Yes, you have. And honestly, Steve has no idea what he’s talking about. Why would you listen to him?”
Jake’s face softened as the truth hit him. “You’re right. He has no clue.”
We tore up both lists, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like we were back on the same team. It was a reminder that marriage isn’t about being perfect—it’s about being better together.
I Accidentally Saw My MIL in a Nightshirt on a Phone, but to My Shock, It Wasn’t Her or Her Husband’s Phone
I Accidentally Saw My MIL in a Nightshirt on a Phone, but to My Shock, It Wasn’t Her or Her Husband’s Phone
Jocelyn is enjoying a big family holiday when she accidentally sees racy pics of her MIL on a phone. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the owner of the phone then comes looking for the device, and it’s the last person she expected!
There are some things you just can’t unsee. I had one of those moments recently, during an annual family get-together at my in-laws’ cottage.
A bunch of us gather here every summer, including my parents and other relatives. We usually have a great time, but this year, I accidentally exposed a huge secret. The fallout almost destroyed us all.
A cabin on a lakeshore | Source: Pexels
So there I was, curled up in the old armchair in the corner of the living room, trying to fend off a nasty headache. Everyone was either cleaning up after dinner or preparing for our traditional board game night.
We had a rule: all phones went into a small wooden box during game time to ensure we all stayed present. The box was sitting right next to me, and I was using the lull to rest a bit after the games.
That’s when it happened.
A small wooden chest | Source: Pexels
One of the phones in the box buzzed. No big deal, right? But then it buzzed again. And again. Curiosity got the better of me.
I reached for the buzzing phone, trying to remember if we had any rules about checking messages. Pretty sure we didn’t, so I figured it couldn’t hurt.
The screen lit up as I picked it up. The wallpaper was a generic sunset, nothing special. But the notifications… I wish I hadn’t looked.
Woman staring at a phone in shock | Source: MidJourney
There, right on the screen, was a photo of my MIL, Mandy, in lingerie. My heart skipped a beat. I mean, she’s a classy lady, always so put-together, and there she was, posing like a Victoria’s Secret model.
I thought for sure it was Dean, my FIL’s phone. They’ve been married forever, so maybe they had their ways of keeping things spicy. Gross, but whatever.
But before I could even process that thought, my dad walked into the room, looking like he’d lost something. He went straight to the box, glanced inside, and frowned.
A mature man frowning | Source: MidJourney
“Hey, have you seen my phone?” he asked, scanning the room.
I held up the buzzing phone, trying to keep my face neutral. “This one?”
He grinned. “Yeah, that’s mine.”
Wait, what? My brain couldn’t keep up. My dad’s phone? I felt like I was in a bad soap opera.
He grabbed the phone from my hand and his eyes widened as he saw the screen. Without another word, he stormed into the kitchen. I followed him, feeling like I was floating outside my own body.
A woman in shock | Source: Pexels
In the kitchen, Mandy was washing dishes, humming softly to herself. My dad didn’t waste a second.
“Stop doing this! Stop sending these pictures!” he snapped.
She spun around, dropping a plate that shattered on the floor. Her face turned a shade of red I didn’t think was possible.
Maybe I should’ve waited to overhear more of the conversation, but that’s just not the type of person I am. Instead, I rushed right in there, determined to get answers.
“What’s going on?” I blurted out, stepping into the room.
A woman peering around a door | Source: Pexels
Both Dad and Mandy froze, like deer caught in headlights. They stared at me before exchanging a guilty look.
“Everything is fine, honey,” Mandy stammered. “It’s just a misunderstanding.”
“I don’t think so,” I replied, crossing my arms. “I saw the pictures.”
Dad sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I’ll explain everything.”
He took my hand and led me upstairs to one of the bedrooms. My mind was racing, trying to piece together what was happening.
“Look,” he began, sitting me down on the edge of the bed. “Mandy and I knew each other when we were younger.”
A tense mature man | Source: Pexels
“She was in love with me,” he continued, “but I didn’t feel the same. I met your mom, and everything between us ended. Or so I thought.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was insane.
“When you and Dylan got married, and I saw Mandy again… it was surreal. We decided not to tell anyone about our past together. But then the pictures started.” Dad hung his head. “At first, I thought it was a one-time thing, but then it kept happening. Today was the last straw.”
“This is crazy,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
“I know, and I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, his eyes full of regret. “But you need to understand, it’s over. It’s been over for a long time. Your mother is the love of my life, and nothing will ever change that.”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “What do we do now?”
“We confront this together, as a family,” he said firmly. “No more secrets. We’ll talk to her and make sure this stops for good.”
I was still reeling from everything Dad had told me as we headed back downstairs.
A wooden staircase | Source: Pexels
The whole thing felt surreal like I was trapped in some twisted reality show. My dad’s affair with Mandy from decades ago, her unrequited love, and now these scandalous photos — my head was spinning.
The rest of the family was gathered in the living room, sensing something was up. Mandy was nervously picking at a thread on her sweater, while Dean looked concerned, his eyes darting between us.
“We need to talk,” my dad announced, breaking the tense silence. “All of us. Now.”
“What’s this about?” Dean asked, his voice laced with worry.
A mature man | Source: Pexels
Mandy’s face paled as she glanced at my dad. “Please, not here. Not in front of everyone.”
“No,” I said, surprising even myself with the firmness in my voice. “This needs to be out in the open.”
My dad nodded, taking a deep breath. “It’s about the photos, the ones you’ve been sending to me.”
Dean’s eyes widened in shock. “What photos? What’s he talking about?”
Mandy’s shoulders slumped, and she let out a shaky breath. “I… Joseph and I dated before I met you. I’ve been sending him pictures. Inappropriate pictures. It was a mistake. I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”
Regretful mature woman | Source: Pexels
“You thought it was okay to do this?” I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice. “To send those photos to my dad? How could you?”
Dean looked like someone had punched him. “I can’t believe this. Why, Mandy? Why would you do something like this?”
Tears welled up in Mandy’s eyes. “I was trying to hold onto something that was never really there. I made a mistake, a terrible mistake.”
“A mistake?” Dean echoed, his voice shaking with hurt. “This is more than a mistake. This is betrayal.”
Angry mature man | Source: MidJourney
My dad stepped forward, his expression serious. “We need to address this as a family. Mandy, you need to stop this behavior immediately.”
She nodded, wiping away her tears. “I know. I’m so sorry. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”
We spent the next hour discussing what to do next. My dad was adamant that we needed a clear plan to move forward.
“We need to ensure this never happens again. Mandy, you need to seek help. Therapy, counseling—whatever.”
A sad mature woman | Source: Pexels
“I will,” she agreed, her voice small but determined. “I’ll get help. I don’t want to hurt this family any more than I already have.”
The weight of her words settled over us, and for a moment, there was only silence. Then Dean spoke, his voice heavy with emotion. “I need time to process this. But I want us to work through it. For our family.”
We all nodded, the gravity of the situation pulling us together. It wasn’t going to be easy, but we had to try.
Later that evening, after things had calmed down, my mom arrived.
Smiling mature woman | Source: Pexels
She’d been out for a walk, blissfully unaware of the storm that had erupted in her absence. We sat her down and explained everything.
Her reaction was a mixture of shock, sadness, and resolve. “We’ll get through this,” she said, holding my dad’s hand. “We’re a family, and we’ll face this together.”
The next few days were a blur of emotions as we all tried to process what had happened. There were a lot of difficult conversations, tears, and attempts at understanding.
Mandy started seeing a therapist, and slowly, we began to pick up the pieces.
Mature woman speaking to her therapist | Source: MidJourney
It was a long road to healing, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like we were all moving in the right direction. No more secrets, no more lies—just the truth, as painful as it was, and the hope that we could rebuild what had been broken.
Would you have exposed the secret if this happened to you?
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