MY HUSBAND CREATED A NEW SCHEDULE FOR ME TO “BECOME A BETTER WIFE” 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 surprise for him on the kitchen counter. ⬇️Continues in the comments

When my husband Ethan first pushed a piece of paper across the kitchen table, I thought it would be

a grocery list or a note about our upcoming appointments. Instead, I found myself staring at something

that rendered me utterly speechless: a neatly typed schedule detailing how I could “improve” as a wife.

While many would have tossed it aside in frustration, I chose to approach it with a steady and careful touch.

Ethan really believed he could turn me into some kind of domestic ideal with his little printed schedule, but he was in for a big surprise.

I always thought of myself as the steady one in our marriage—calm, patient, and more likely to give

others the benefit of the doubt. Ethan, in contrast, often embraced new ideas with a sense of wonder

and excitement that felt almost innocent. Most of the time, it was just harmless things:

a high-end blender he insisted would make us health enthusiasts, or an online guitar class he believed would bring out his inner rock star.

Recently, Ethan found himself swayed by his co-worker Glen, who claimed to be a “expert”

on relationships, even though he had never actually maintained one himself. Glen was the

type of person who believed that being loud meant being right, the sort who could ramble

on for ages without ever really paying attention. He enjoyed sharing his opinions on how

wives ought to act, and it seemed that Ethan had absorbed every single one of those suggestions.

Initially, Ethan would make subtle remarks that really caught my attention. “Glen believes that

managing a household is primarily the wife’s duty,” he would say nonchalantly, or “Glen thinks

women ought to always maintain their attractiveness.” I would roll my eyes or respond with

something sarcastic, hoping Ethan would see how absurd it all was. He appeared to grow more

convinced with each conversation, adopting a subtle look of disapproval whenever I opted

for takeout instead of cooking dinner or let a pile of laundry sit until the weekend.

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1 : OUR HOUSE WAS COVERED IN RAW EGGS ON CHRISTMAS—THEN WE FOUND A NOTE STUFFED UNDER THE DOOR Christmas was always about family. That’s why we cherished our yearly tradition of escaping to the islands—just the four of us—and soaking in the sun before the holiday chaos. This year was no different. Or so I thought. Upon returning home, I froze. The house looked like a war zone. Raw eggs dripped from the walls, broken shells littered the porch, and even the holiday wreath was destroyed. The kids were stunned, my husband muttered under his breath, and my chest tightened with disbelief. Who would do this? I prided myself on being a good neighbor—baking cookies for new families, helping at block parties. This didn’t feel random; it felt personal. Then we found the note shoved under the door: “THIS IS FOR WHAT YOU TOOK FROM ME BEFORE CHRISTMAS!” The words were a slap. What had I taken? From whom? That night, I checked the cameras. The footage showed a hooded figure methodically hurling eggs. My stomach turned. This wasn’t a prank; it was a vendetta. I was already dialing the police when I paused the footage and zoomed in. Something about the way the figure moved—the tilt of their head, the familiar posture—made my breath catch. I realized who it was. “IT COULDN’T BE!” I screamed.⬇️

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