Jake and I had a pretty good marriage, at least for the first few years. We were partners in everything, shared responsibilities, and had our routines down to a science. But then, Jake started hanging out with a guy from work—Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought he knew everything about everything, including how to have a perfect marriage. Funny thing was, Steve didn’t even have a girlfriend, let alone a wife. Yet, somehow, he was now the self-proclaimed marriage guru.
At first, it was small stuff. Jake would come home and mention things Steve said about how “wives should be more supportive” or how “a good wife knows how to take care of her man.” I brushed it off, thinking Jake was just venting or joking. But soon, the comments became more frequent, and I noticed Jake was taking Steve’s ridiculous advice a little too seriously.
Then one day, Jake came home with a smug grin on his face, carrying a stack of papers. He handed them to me like he had just solved the mystery of the universe.
“What’s this?” I asked, flipping through the pages.
“Just something to help you be more… organized,” he said, clearly proud of himself.
I stared at the top page, and in bold letters, it read: “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife.”
My jaw practically hit the floor. Jake had actually gone ahead and written a schedule for me, detailing what he thought I needed to do to “improve” as a wife. And where did he get these brilliant ideas? From Steve, of course.
The schedule was insane. According to this masterpiece, I was supposed to wake up at 5 AM every day to make Jake breakfast, then head to the gym to “stay in shape.” After that, I had to clean the entire house, do all the laundry, prepare dinner, and then—here’s the kicker—make snacks and drinks for him and his friends when they came over to hang out after work. As if that wasn’t enough, I also had to “be available” to spend quality time with Jake every evening, making sure I “always look my best.”
I was livid. But I didn’t show it. Instead, I plastered on my best fake smile and said, “Sure, babe. I’ll get right on it.”
Jake beamed, thinking he’d just secured the perfect wife. Little did he know, I was already plotting my revenge.
The next morning, I followed the schedule—sort of. I got up at 5 AM, made Jake breakfast, and sent him off to work with a smile. But once he was gone, the real fun began.
First, I hired a cleaning service to take care of the house. Why should I break my back cleaning when I could pay someone else to do it? Then I headed to the gym, but not for a workout. Instead, I booked myself a nice, relaxing massage. Afterward, I went shopping, treating myself to a few new outfits and a fancy lunch.
By the time Jake got home, everything was sparkling clean, and I was lounging on the couch with a glass of wine. He looked around, clearly impressed.
“Wow, the house looks amazing!” he said, as he sat down beside me.
“Thanks,” I replied sweetly. “I followed the schedule to the letter.”
He smiled, thinking his “plan” was working. But that was just day one.
On day two, things started to change. I “accidentally” forgot to wake up early. When Jake asked about breakfast, I told him I had an early workout and didn’t have time to cook. He wasn’t happy, but I just shrugged and reminded him, “It’s part of your schedule, remember? Gotta stay in shape!”
That evening, when his friends came over, I greeted them with a tray of snacks and drinks—just like the schedule said. But instead of sitting quietly in the background, I pulled up a chair and joined the conversation, steering every topic toward housework and how exhausting it was to be the “perfect wife.” By the end of the night, Jake was squirming in his seat, while his friends exchanged awkward glances.
On day three, I got creative. I hired a personal chef to cook dinner, but made sure Jake thought I’d cooked it myself. When he praised my cooking, I smirked and said, “It’s amazing what outsourcing can do.”
Finally, by the end of the week, I delivered the finishing blow. I handed Jake a new stack of papers—his own schedule.
“What’s this?” he asked, frowning.
“Well, I figured if I need a schedule to become a better wife, you could use one to become a better husband,” I replied, flashing him the same smug grin he’d given me days earlier.
The schedule was just as ridiculous as the one he’d given me. It included waking up early to help with breakfast, doing his share of the housework, planning romantic dates, and—best of all—having thoughtful conversations about our relationship every night.
Jake stared at the list, his face turning red. “Are you serious?” he stammered.
“Absolutely,” I said. “After all, if you want me to be the best wife I can be, shouldn’t you be the best husband?”
Jake didn’t argue. He didn’t have a leg to stand on. The lesson hit him hard, and by the end of the week, he sheepishly apologized, admitting he’d let Steve’s nonsense get to him.
We tossed both schedules in the trash, and from then on, we went back to being equals—partners, like we were meant to be.
Jake may have tried to “improve” me, but in the end, I think he learned a valuable lesson: Marriage isn’t about controlling each other. It’s about working together, respecting each other, and realizing that no one needs a schedule to be a good partner.