Marriage is a partnership, built on respect, love, and equality. So, you can imagine my shock when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule—yes, a detailed plan—for how I could “become a better wife.” But instead of blowing up in frustration, I decided to take a different approach. I played along, with the full intention of teaching him a lesson he would never forget. Spoiler alert: Jake never saw it coming.
Jake and I had always had a solid marriage. Sure, like all couples, we had our ups and downs, but we were partners in every sense of the word. Jake, bless him, often got swept up in new ideas. It could be a random YouTube video promising life transformation or a hobby he suddenly had to master. Normally, these phases didn’t bother me much, but things changed after Jake met Steve.
Steve was one of those guys who had an opinion on everything—relationships, fitness, careers, you name it. The kicker? He was perpetually single. Of course, that didn’t stop him from giving my husband relationship advice. Before long, Jake was parroting some of Steve’s views about marriage, and they were… well, let’s just say they weren’t exactly progressive.
It began with subtle comments. “Steve says relationships work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” Jake would mention, as though Steve was some kind of guru. Or worse, “Steve thinks it’s important for women to look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.” I’d roll my eyes, thinking this phase would pass. But Jake’s attitude began to shift.
Suddenly, he’d sigh dramatically if I ordered takeout after a long day at work, and the laundry pile became a reason for raised eyebrows. It was as if my husband, my equal, had started viewing me through a lens of outdated expectations. But I wasn’t ready for what came next.
One evening, Jake came home looking particularly smug. He sat me down, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across the table with an air of authority. My first thought? Oh no.
“Lisa,” he began, “you’re an amazing wife. But Steve made me realize something—there’s room for improvement.”
I stared at him in disbelief. Improvement? I had a full-time job, kept our home running, and somehow, I needed to be “better”? Jake nodded as though he was bestowing wisdom upon me. “Steve helped me create this schedule for you. It’s just some structure, you know, to help you become the best wife you can be.”
A man on an armchair | Source: Pexels
I unfolded the paper and there it was—“Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife”—written in bold at the top. Jake, in all his clueless confidence, had listed out my entire week.
Wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast. Hit the gym for an hour to “stay in shape.” After that? An exhausting list of chores: cleaning, laundry, ironing, all before heading to work. Evenings were for cooking dinner from scratch and preparing fancy snacks for when Jake’s friends came over. The whole thing was sexist and insulting on so many levels, I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.
But instead of flipping out, I did something unexpected—I smiled sweetly and said, “You’re right, Jake. I’m so lucky to have this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.” Jake beamed, thinking he’d won. Little did he know, the game was about to change.
The next morning, I studied the ridiculous list again and came up with a plan of my own. If Jake thought he could hand me a schedule for “improvement,” I was about to show him just how much “structure” he could handle.
A serious woman | Source: Pexels
I grabbed my laptop and typed out “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” If I was expected to wake up at 5 a.m. and cook gourmet meals, surely Jake would need to make a few adjustments too, right?
First up, the gym membership. Jake had insisted I stay in shape, so I figured he needed a personal trainer—$1,200 a year seemed reasonable. And of course, Jake’s expectations for organic, non-GMO groceries were lofty. That would cost an extra $700 per month, so I added that to the list. I threw in a cooking class for good measure, because perfection wasn’t cheap.
But the real kicker? If I was to follow this absurd schedule, I would have no time for my job. So, naturally, Jake would need to replace my salary—a mere $75,000 a year. Plus, I figured we’d need a new space for his friends to hang out, so I budgeted $50,000 to build a man cave.
By the time I was done, the list was a masterpiece—a financial disaster, but a masterpiece nonetheless.
I printed out my creation, placed it on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he walked through the door, I could barely contain my excitement. He spotted the paper right away and picked it up. “What’s this?” he asked, still in that condescending tone.
A man | Source: Pexels
“Oh, it’s just a little list I made for you. You know, to help you become the best husband ever.”
At first, Jake chuckled, thinking I was playing along. But as he read the details—$1,200 for a trainer, $75,000 to replace my salary, $50,000 for a man cave—his face paled. “Wait, what? $700 a month for groceries? $75,000 for your salary? Are you serious, Lisa?”
I leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Well, you expect me to be a full-time cook, cleaner, and hostess. I figured we’d need to budget for that.”
Jake’s eyes widened as the absurdity of his demands sank in. “I… I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he stammered. “I thought…”
A woman glancing down | Source: Pexels
“You thought what?” I interrupted. “That I’d follow this ridiculous schedule and everything would be fine? Jake, marriage isn’t about control or improvement lists. It’s about respect and partnership.”
Jake looked down, finally understanding the gravity of his mistake. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Steve made it sound so reasonable, but now I see how wrong it was.”
We tore up both lists together, laughing a little as we did. I didn’t need to say much more. Jake had learned his lesson: marriage isn’t about one partner fixing the other. It’s about growing together, respecting each other, and sometimes, learning the hard way that equality is non-negotiable.
In the end, our marriage was stronger for it, and Jake, well, let’s just say he won’t be taking advice from Steve again anytime soon.
