James and I had always worked as a team—or at least, that’s what I thought. When our daughter was born, he convinced me to go part-time, saying it was “best for our family.” I didn’t like it, but I agreed. After all, marriage was about partnership, right?Then, one evening, James came home beaming. He’d landed a huge promotion, his salary had doubled, and he popped open champagne to celebrate. I was thrilled for him—until he looked at me and said, “Now that I’m earning more, we should split everything 50/50. It’s only fair.”
I almost choked on my drink.”Fair?” I repeated. “James, I work part-time because you pushed for it! I also do all the cooking, cleaning, errands, and childcare. How is that fair?”
He shrugged. “Well, it’s not my fault you settled for less.”Settled for less? My blood boiled, but I forced myself to stay calm. I smiled. “Alright, James. I’ll agree—on one condition.”
His eyes narrowed. “What is it?”“You’ll need to contribute 50% of the household chores and childcare.”
His face dropped.”No more coming home to a cooked meal every night unless you’ve cooked it yourself. No more clean laundry magically appearing in your drawers. You’ll do 50% of the school drop-offs, night wakings, grocery runs, and deep cleaning. Oh, and if you get sick? Don’t expect me to baby you unless you’d do the same for me.”
James opened his mouth, then closed it. His brain was short-circuiting.I leaned in. “Fair is fair, right?”
He stammered something about “not meaning it like that” and “let’s not rush into changes,” but I just smiled and sipped my champagne.Lesson learned, James.