Six months postpartum, drowning in baby laundry, and exhausted beyond words, I thought my husband would understand when our washing machine broke. But instead of helping, he shrugged and said, “Just wash everything by hand—people did it for centuries.”
I never thought I’d spend this much time doing laundry.
A tired woman in a chair | Source: Pexels
Six months ago, I gave birth to our first baby. Since then, my life had turned into a never-ending cycle of feeding, changing diapers, cleaning, cooking, and washing. So much washing. Babies go through more clothes in a day than an entire football team.
On a good day, I washed at least eight pounds of tiny onesies, burp cloths, blankets, and bibs. On a bad day? Let’s just say I stopped counting.
A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels
So when the washing machine broke, I knew I was in trouble.
I had just pulled out a soaking pile of clothes when it sputtered, let out a sad grinding noise, and died. I pressed the buttons. Nothing. I unplugged it, plugged it back in. Nothing.
My heart sank.
When Billy got home from work, I wasted no time.
A tired puzzled woman | Source: Pexels
“The washing machine is dead,” I said as soon as he stepped through the door. “We need a new one.”
Billy barely looked up from his phone. “Huh?”
“I said the washing machine broke. We need to replace it. Soon.”
He nodded absently, kicked off his shoes, and scrolled through his screen. “Yeah. Not this month.”
A man on his phone in his living room | Source: Pexels
I blinked. “What?”
“Not this month,” he repeated. “Maybe next month when I get my salary. Three weeks.”
I felt my stomach twist. “Billy, I can’t go three weeks without a washing machine. The baby’s clothes need to be cleaned properly every day.”
A couple having a serious talk | Source: Pexels
Billy sighed like I was asking for something unreasonable. He put his phone down and stretched his arms over his head. “Look, I already promised to pay for my mom’s vacation this month. She really deserves it.”
I stared at him. “Your mom’s vacation?”
“Yeah. She’s been babysitting for us. I thought it’d be nice to do something for her.”
Babysitting?
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
I swallowed hard. His mother came over once a month. She sat on the couch, watched TV, ate the dinner I cooked, and took a nap while the baby slept. That wasn’t babysitting. That was visiting.
Billy kept talking like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me. “She said she needed a break, so I figured I’d cover her trip. It’s just for a few days.”
A man talking to his wife in his kitchen | Source: Pexels
I crossed my arms. “Billy, your mom doesn’t babysit. She comes over, eats, naps, and goes home.”
He frowned. “That’s not true.”
“Oh, really? When was the last time she changed a diaper?”
Billy opened his mouth, then shut it. “That’s not the point.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I think it is.”
A couple arguing in their kitchen | Source: Pexels
He groaned, rubbing his face. “Look, can’t you just wash everything by hand for now? People used to do that for centuries. Nobody died from it.”
I stared at him, feeling my blood boil. Wash everything by hand. Like I wasn’t already drowning in work, exhausted, aching, and running on three hours of sleep a night.
An angry woman clutching her head | Source: Pexels
I took a slow, deep breath, my hands clenching into fists. I wanted to yell, to scream, to make him understand how unfair this was. But I knew Billy. Arguing wouldn’t change his mind.
I exhaled and looked at the pile of dirty clothes stacked by the door. Fine. If he wanted me to wash everything by hand, then that’s exactly what I’d do.
The first load wasn’t so bad.
A pile of clothes | Source: Pexels
I filled the bathtub with soapy water, dropped in the baby’s clothes, and started scrubbing. My arms ached, but I told myself it was temporary. Just a few weeks.
By the third load, my back was screaming. My fingers were raw. And I still had towels, bedsheets, and Billy’s work clothes waiting for me.
A tired woman sitting near a bathtub | Source: Midjourney
Every day was the same. Wake up, feed the baby, clean, cook, do laundry by hand, wring it out, hang it up. By the time I was done, my hands were swollen, my shoulders stiff, and my body exhausted.
Billy didn’t notice.
A bored man on a couch | Source: Pexels
He came home, kicked off his shoes, ate the dinner I cooked, and stretched out on the couch. I could barely hold a spoon, but he never once asked if I needed help. Never looked at my hands, red and cracked from hours of scrubbing.
One night, after I’d finished washing another pile of clothes, I collapsed onto the couch next to him. I winced as I rubbed my aching fingers.
Billy glanced at me. “What’s wrong with you?”
A tired woman on her couch | Source: Pexels
I stared at him. “What’s wrong with me?”
He shrugged. “You look tired.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Gee, I wonder why.”
He didn’t even flinch. Just turned back to the TV. That was the moment something snapped inside me.
An annoyed woman in her kitchen | Source: Pexels
Billy wasn’t going to understand—not unless he felt the inconvenience himself. If he wanted me to live like a 19th-century housewife, then fine. He could live like a caveman.
So I planned my revenge.
The next morning, I packed his lunch as usual. Except instead of the big, hearty meal he expected, I filled his lunchbox with stones. Right on top, I placed a folded note.
A lunchbox filled with rocks | Source: Midjourney
Then I kissed his cheek and sent him off to work.
And I waited.
At exactly 12:30 PM, Billy stormed through the front door, red-faced and furious.
“What the hell have you done?!” he shouted, slamming his lunchbox onto the counter.
I turned from the sink, wiping my hands on a towel. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
A laughing woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
He flipped open the lid, revealing the pile of rocks. He grabbed the note and read it out loud.
“Men used to get food for their families themselves. Go hunt your meal, make fire with stones, and fry it.”
His face twisted in rage. “Are you out of your damn mind, Shirley? I had to open this in front of my coworkers!”
I crossed my arms. “Oh, so public humiliation is bad when it happens to you?”
A shouting man wearing glasses | Source: Pexels
Billy clenched his jaw. He looked like he wanted to yell, but for once, he didn’t have a comeback.
I crossed my arms and tilted my head. “Go on, Billy. Tell me how this is different.”
His jaw tightened. “Shirley, this is—this is just childish.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I see. So your suffering is real, but mine is just me being childish?”
An angry woman lecturing her husband | Source: Pexels
He threw his hands in the air. “You could have just talked to me!”
I stepped forward, fire burning in my chest. “Talked to you? I did, Billy. I told you I couldn’t go three weeks without a washing machine. I told you I was exhausted. And you shrugged and told me to do it by hand. Like I was some woman from the 1800s!”
A woman turning away from her husband | Source: Pexels
His nostrils flared, but I could see the tiny flicker of guilt creeping in. He knew I was right.
I pointed at his lunchbox. “You thought I’d just take it, huh? That I’d wash and scrub and break my back while you sat on that couch every night without a care in the world?”
Billy looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.
A sad man clutching his head | Source: Pexels
I shook my head. “I’m not a servant, Billy. And I’m sure as hell not your mother.”
Silence. Then, finally, he muttered, “I get it.”
“Do you?” I asked.
He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Yeah. I do.”
A tired man rubbing his temples | Source: Pexels
I watched him for a long moment, letting his words settle. Then I turned back to the sink. “Good,” I said, rinsing off my hands. “Because I meant it, Billy. If you ever put your mother’s vacation over my basic needs again, you’d better learn how to start a fire with those rocks.”
Billy sulked for the rest of the evening.
An angry man in a hoodie | Source: Pexels
He barely touched his dinner. He didn’t turn on the TV. He sat on the couch, arms crossed, staring at the wall like it had personally betrayed him. Every now and then, he sighed loudly, like I was supposed to feel bad for him.
I didn’t.
For once, he was the one uncomfortable. He was the one who had to sit with the weight of his own choices. And I was perfectly fine letting him stew in it.
A woman reading a book on a couch | Source: Pexels
The next morning, something strange happened.
Billy’s alarm went off earlier than usual. Instead of hitting snooze five times, he actually got up. He got dressed quickly and left without a word.
I didn’t ask where he was going. I just waited.
That evening, when he came home, I heard it before I saw it—the unmistakable sound of a large box being dragged through the doorway.
A large box in the doorway | Source: Midjourney
I turned around and there it was. A brand-new washing machine.
Billy didn’t say anything. He just set it up, plugging in hoses, checking the settings. No complaints. No excuses. Just quiet determination.
When he finished, he finally looked up. His face was sheepish, his voice low.
“I get it now.”
A sorry man covering his face | Source: Pexels
I watched him for a moment, then nodded. “Good.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh… should’ve listened to you sooner.”
“Yeah,” I said, crossing my arms. “You should have.”
He swallowed, nodded again, then grabbed his phone and walked away without argument or justification. Just acceptance. And honestly? That was enough.
A satisfied smiling woman | Source: Pexels
Woman Demands Husband to Get His Stuff Out after Supporting Him for 23 Years — Story of the Day
A woman goes through a rude awakening in a cafe and decides to do something about it — the first thing to go was her husband, but did he deserve it?
Debra Skye was a 52-year-old woman who was very much young at heart. Although she was in her 50s, she did not recognize herself as an old woman — not that she had a lot of time to dwell on the subject, since she had to work three jobs to support her family.
Her husband, Austin Skye, had slowly become a financial burden after he lost his job more than two decades ago.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
At first, he spent all his time looking for a new job without luck, but after some time, he stopped searching. Austin slowly grew accustomed to life as a dependent without any responsibilities, and gradually, his hobby became lying on the couch in front of the TV, drinking beer, and eating chips.
His body was the first thing to change, followed by everything else. He was well-fed and clothed even though he was no longer working.
It was a dream come true for a man who was always lazy at heart. Everything was enough for him, thanks to Debra working different jobs, but he did not seem to notice how hard she was trying.
They had married when they were barely adults; Debra was 19 while he was 20, and they had been completely in love with one another.
That love was what Debra thought about as she continued to hope that Austin would once again start putting himself out there for work. She even remained his staunch supporter at times when their relatives ganged up to ridicule him.
They got married so early in their lives because she had gotten pregnant with their daughter, Kayla. Of course, there would have been consequences if they had not wed, but their love had made it a simple, even natural, decision.
Their daughter, like them, also got married early and gave birth to a child who would grow up without his father because the man divorced Kayla.
Left to fend for her child while not being able to go to work because of the minor child in her care, Kayla needed help, and Debra was who she asked for it.
A dependable mother, Debra chose to pitch in financially, giving Kayla a steady allowance to care for herself and her child.
Never once did the steady supply of money waver, and it made Kayla complacent with finding her own source of income. She stopped trying to search for a suitable workplace and started depending solely on the allowance she was receiving.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
It continued that way for a long time until one day, Debra was jolted to a painful realization. That day had been just like any other; the woman left her home early and stopped at Starbucks for her coffee.
Once in the cafe, she joined a line three people long and patiently stood waiting for her turn while keeping an eye on her watch.
“Gordon will eat me alive if I arrive late today,” she thought to herself.
Her boss knew how many jobs she worked and usually cut her some slack, but Debra knew she had been pushing her luck in recent days. As she impatiently tapped her feet, several teenagers brazenly walked into the cafe and cut in line just when it was her turn.
The cashier, a young man with a bored look on his face, said nothing and simply started serving them. Debra couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Excuse me?” she said through gritted teeth. “Don’t you see me standing here? It was my turn!”
“I’m sorry ma’am, kids will be kids right?” the man behind the counter said, offering an awkward smile.
“What’s your deal anyway?” one of the teenagers said.
“Yeah, got somewhere you have to be?” another said in a mocking voice.
“I don’t think pensioners have anywhere they need to hurry to,” the third teenager said.
“You can stand in the queue all day if you want,” they chorused as they moved to the other end to collect their orders. Debra had never encountered such unruly children before, and it shocked her but not as much as what they said.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
When she returned to her car, she took a long time staring at herself in the mirror. The woman she saw looked very tired. Many wrinkles had become evident on her face, and her dark hair was slowly giving way to grey. Debra couldn’t remember when the gray strands first appeared, and it reminded her of how much she had been neglecting herself.
“I can’t even recall the last time I was in a hair salon,” she thought in despair.
The thought made her wonder what she had been doing all that time, and an answer immediately emerged — slaving away.
It made her very upset and realize that all her life, all she had been doing was trying to please her family, at the expense of her own well-being. “This has to end,” she told herself.
The first thing Debra did was call her daughter to inform her of her decision.
“Hello Mama, I was just going to call you,” Kayla said as soon as she picked up the call. “I was hoping you could send me my allowance earlier than Friday?”
“No Kayla, I will not do that,” Debra said, annoyed that her daughter had not even let her speak.
“What? Mama, why?” Kayla complained.
“Because you’ve grown too complacent with your lot in life. It’s time for you to wake up.”
“What are you saying, Mama?”
“I’m saying effective immediately your allowance is terminated and you’ll no longer be receiving it. If you want money, get out there and work for it.”
With that, Debra hung up and went in search of a beauty salon, where she had her hair dyed before getting a beautiful haircut, manicure, and many other procedures.
She turned her phone off to enjoy what had become a novel experience, and after that, she headed to a mall and got herself several beautiful dresses, one of which she decided to go home in. Her old clothes did not leave the mall with her.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Upon arriving home, her husband, who had picked up a call from her boss redirected to their landline, asked where she had been.
“Two of your bosses said you didn’t turn up for your shifts,” Austin said from his position on the couch. When he turned around to look at Debra, he coughed up the bite of chips he had just swallowed.
“Debs, is that you?” he asked wide-eyed.
“Yes, it is,” she replied stiffly.
“You went clothes shopping and all when you were supposed to be working?” he asked her angrily.
She gave him a vague answer but he started scolding her about how much money she wasted treating herself to all those nice things.
They were in the middle of that heated conversation when Kayla walked into the house with all the confidence of a righteous person done wrong. “Why would you cut my allowance off?” she asked without pausing to read the room.
After a moment, she took in her mom’s new look and pointed out how comfortable she was spending so much on herself while refusing to help her.
Debra had to take a moment to calm herself down before responding by explaining what had happened to her daughter. The girl was still trying to contain her shock when her mother turned to her father and revealed her desire to get divorced.
“I’m done cleaning up after you Austin,” she said. The man was shocked. He could not understand why she suddenly turned upon them, but Debra did not back down.
“For the past two decades, I have shouldered this family’s financial burdens. But now I’m tired and would like to focus that energy on myself,” Debra said tearfully. It was like admitting defeat, but what choice did she have? Those she was fighting for had given up a long time ago.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“I want you to leave,” she said.
“What? You can’t mean that,” Austin said.
“I do,” she said, then went past him to get to their room. After that night, Austin’s bruised pride caused him to move out of their home without trying to beg for forgiveness, and Kayla stopped asking Debra for money.
A month later, Debra quit her hard and disliked jobs and settled with one that really brought her passion. She lived her life, traveled the world, and when she could, helped her daughter to look after her grandson.
Debra never regretted her decision to divorce her husband even though he begged her to return after he found a job. “I will keep your offer in mind,” she’d told him, and he had not stopped trying to deserve her ever since.
What can we gain from this story?
- Self-love is non-negotiable. Debra sacrificed for her family without thinking about herself until the rude kids pointed out just how much it was affecting her. Her awakening brought about change, and she was able to start living for herself once more.
- Never stop trying. Kayla and Austin gave up so easily because they were getting all they needed through Debra, who never complained. They forgot that the only way to move forward was by trying, but luckily Debra was there to remind them.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a man who kicks his daughter out of the house only to meet her years later as a helpless, homeless beggar.
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