Turning the Tables: How I Showed My Husband the True Meaning of Hard Work

My Husband Constantly Said That I’m Lazy – I Decided to Teach Him a Proper Lesson

My spouse referred to me as “lazy” as he felt that my everyday routine at home was simple. When I eventually had enough of his criticism, I put him in the deep end and, as I had anticipated, he had trouble swimming! See how I got him in shape in just one week by reading on!

Occasionally, we marry someone without realising how much they will change over time. This lesson came to me the hard way. I’m Wendy, and I’m a mother of two gorgeous and priceless kids. In addition to being a parent, I work from home remotely full-time.

My earnings assist my spouse, Donny, and myself in maintaining a stable financial situation in our home. My spouse was the most charming man when we were still dating. But he’s changed since we were married.

For example, we have a new problem as of late. He constantly tells me how messy the house is when he gets home from work. He’ll be complaining about how dirty the table is or that there are only TWO plates left in the washbasin.

When Donny asks me why I don’t clean every day since I’m ALWAYS at home, it really irritates me! “If I stayed home like you do, I’d make it all SHINE everyday!” he once exclaimed to me.

My husband and I went shopping last week, and it became more than just a regular errand—it was a turning point in our relationship. We were standing in the shop queue when the last straw came. After leaving one store, we had to traverse a sizable parking lot to get to another.

At the pick-up area were the items we ordered, four large, heavy boxes with an outside table and chairs inside. We had our car parked across the street, though. My biggest error was recommending that we drive the car to the exit of the shop rather than carrying the boxes across the parking lot. Donny showed no hesitation!

The man began to shout, “God, once again! Why do you act so sluggish? Why are you unable to move these boxes 50 metres to the car?” With every syllable, his voice got louder. He yelled, “I didn’t realise I married someone so lazy,” clearly audible to others.

I felt angry and humiliated, but I kept my mouth shut. I couldn’t take any more, so I left the store without the furniture. Without my assistance, he had to find out how to move the furniture.

Rather, months before I made the decision to exact my retribution, unbeknownst to him. I made plans, and the following day, before I left, I left him a message. A few hours later, he sobbed when he called me and said:

“Please, honey! Please, please don’t do this to me. I beg you. They’re making me go nuts!”

He sounded tired and desperate in his voice. Knowing that I needed to take a week off from him because of his constant criticism of my alleged sloth, I made hidden plans. It so happened to fall exactly on top of a business trip.

I hadn’t spoken to Donny at all about booking it. I made sure everything was ready before I left so that things would continue around the house even without me. I left him a note that said, “Gone on a business trip for a week,” without any further explanation.

“Supper necessities are in the freezer, and the kids have a schedule posted on the fridge. Wishing you luck!”
I intended for him to go through my everyday activities and oversee all I typically did. I wanted him to know how insulting the term “lazy” was to me. He had to juggle morning preparations during the week.

In addition, he handled nighttime routines, cooking, cleaning, and school drop-offs. At last, my spouse witnessed directly all the never-ending cycles of tasks and expectations I handled every day in addition to my job.

He received calls nearly every day! His voice progressively changed from one of exasperation to desperation. One day, he admitted, “I’m really tired. How you manage to do it all is beyond me.” The man who’d dubbed me “lazy” was asking for help with handling everything now.

I gently gave him advice and support while showing him the ins and outs of running a bustling family. His perspective on our communication changed when he at last experienced what it was like to be in MY position.

The difference was evident when I got back! The relief on his face was what really said volumes, even if the house was in remarkably good shape! The kids were laughing at their dad’s obvious exhaustion as he hurried to welcome me with them.

He humbly said, “I had no idea,” and then he hugged me tightly. “I apologise if I ever called you sluggish. It’s been eye-opening this week. How do you manage everything?”

Donny NEVER again berated an unvacuumed floor or an occasional dirty dish after that day. Rather, he evolved into the person I fell in love with. He was assisting more with household chores and showing genuine gratitude for all the hidden work I put into keeping our house in order.

His transformation was significant, and it strengthened our bond. It was characterised by mutual respect and a genuine collaboration in handling our household and child-rearing duties. Our marriage was revitalised by the entire experience, which not only made us closer but also deeply ingrained a sense of empathy and teamwork.

Wendy is not the only one who had to use extreme means to impart some much-needed life lessons to a loved one. After her late husband’s brother’s wife said something harsh that caused her mother to cry, little Dora found herself having to defend her mother alone.

My mother started crying when her uncle’s wife made fun of my late father. I gave her a much-needed lesson.

Hello everyone, this is Dora, and boy, do I have a story for you about a delicious retribution that is a little out of the ordinary! My Uncle Jeff was the coolest guy you could ever imagine when he was a kid, riding his motorbike and playing the guitar.

In addition, he was notorious for having multiple wives, and Ophelia, his present spouse, is a real pain in the ass. None of us could tolerate the queen bee attitude that lurked beneath her charming exterior. One evening, over a family dinner at their residence, everything came to a head.

My mother arrived home crying—and I mean really crying—in a way that left me speechless. She informed me how my late father, who we all loved and mourned terribly, had been insulted by Ophelia. Worse, Ophelia lost it and flung a pan of lasagna at my mum for standing up for him!

For me, that was the final straw! Observing my mother in such pain, I felt I had to take action. A few months later, we’re having our family’s summer cookout. I saw my opportunity for a little discreet revenge.

“Hello, Jane!” was my loud greeting as Ophelia entered, beaming. Her expression of confusion was priceless. The first wife of Uncle Jeff was named Jane. The coldness in her smile told me she understood the message, even though everyone else laughed it off.

It continued after that. Every family gathering turned into my stage. At other get-togethers, I “mistakenly” referred to her by the names of other ex-wives, Hilda and Miranda. Her annoyance increased each time, but so did my joy.

Next was the big stage, the family get-together. While having one of her usual outbursts about how things should be done, she gave me a subtle jab, as if she had realised I was onto something. Calm as an ass, I introduced her to her as “Dorothy”—yes, another ex-wife!

I reminded her that she was not the queen she believed herself to be and lay everything out for her. The space erupted! I resisted Uncle Jeff’s reprimands, standing up for my mother and my dad’s legacy. In any case, Ophelia’s visits decreased in frequency until they eventually ceased.

As it happens, she and Uncle Jeff permanently parted ways. For the remainder of us? We’re closer than ever because we stood up to her. It’s crazy how things worked out, but I suppose there are instances when confronting bullies—even in nontraditional ways—brings about a certain kind of justice. What are everyone’s thoughts? Is it overly lavish or merited?