MY HUSBAND CREATED A NEW SCHEDULE FOR ME TO “BECOME A BETTER WIFE” — I TAUGHT HIM A GOOD LESSON IN RESPONSE. So, Jake and I had a pretty solid marriage for the first few years — until he started hanging out with this guy from work, Steve. Steve was this loudmouth from Jake’s work, with no girlfriend, no wife, but he somehow knew everything about marriage. And Jake? He started listening. Suddenly, he’s coming home with all these “tips” Steve gave him. Then one day, Jake walks in with this stack of papers, grinning like he just cracked the code to life. He hands it to me, I look down and see the title: “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife.” My jaw just about hit the floor. Jake had actually gone ahead and written down a whole schedule for me, based on Steve’s “brilliant” ideas. The list was INSANE. I’m supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day, make Jake breakfast, then head to the gym to “stay in shape.” After that, I’m supposed to clean the house, do laundry, cook dinner, and make snacks for him and his friends when they come over. I was beyond mad, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I smiled and said, “Sure, babe, I’ll get right on it.” Little did he know, I was already plotting my payback. The next day, when Jake came home from work, there was a new

Jake chuckled, thinking Lisa was playing along. But as he read, his grin faded. “Wait… what is all this?” He squinted at the numbers, shock crossing his face. “$1,200 for a personal trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”

Lisa leaned against the kitchen island, arms crossed. “Well, you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., go to the gym, make gourmet breakfasts, clean, cook, and host your friends. We should budget for all of that, don’t you think?”

Jake stared at the total. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?!”

She shrugged. “How else can I follow your plan? I can’t work and be the ‘perfect wife,’ right?”

He looked at the pages, his confidence dissolving. “I… I didn’t mean…” He stammered, wide-eyed. “Lisa, I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I just thought…”

She held his gaze, her voice calm yet firm. “You thought what? That I could ‘improve’ myself like a project?” The hurt was clear as she continued. “Marriage isn’t about lists or routines. It’s about respect. And if you ever try to ‘fix’ me like this again, you’ll be paying a lot more than what’s on that paper.”

He stood, speechless, finally seeing the absurdity of his own demands.

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