When our vacuum broke, my husband said I should just sweep because I’m “home all day anyway.” So I grabbed our newborn and a broken broom and showed up at his office to remind him exactly what that really looks like.
I’m 30. I just had my first baby, a sweet little girl named Lila. She’s 9 weeks old, and yeah—she’s perfect. But also? She’s chaos. She screams like she’s in a horror movie. Hates naps. Hates being put down. Basically lives in my arms.
A fussy baby in his mother’s arms | Source: Pexels
I’m on unpaid maternity leave, which sounds relaxing until you realize it means I’m working a 24/7 shift with no help, no breaks, and no paycheck.
I’m also handling the house. And the laundry. And the meals. And the litter boxes. We have two cats, both of whom shed like it’s their full-time job.
A tired woman sitting on a couch | Source: Pexels
My husband Mason is 34. He works in finance. Used to be sweet. When I was pregnant, he made me tea and rubbed my feet. Now? I’m not sure he sees me. I’m the woman who hands him the baby so he can say “she’s fussy” and give her back five seconds later.
Last week, the vacuum died. Which, in a house with two cats and beige carpet, is like losing oxygen.
A woman vacuuming | Source: Pexels
“Hey,” I told Mason while he was playing Xbox. “The vacuum finally kicked it. I found a decent one on sale. Can you grab it this week?”
He didn’t even look up. Just paused his game and said, “Why? Just use a broom.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “Yeah. My mom didn’t have a vacuum when we were kids. She raised five of us with a broom. You’ve got one. And you’re home all day.”
A man lounging on the couch | Source: Pexels
I stared at him.
“You’re not joking,” I said.
“Nope.” He smirked. “She didn’t complain.”
I let out this weird laugh. Half choking, half dying inside.
“Did your mom also carry a screaming baby around while sweeping with one arm?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Probably. She got it done. Women were tougher back then.”
A man arguing with his wife | Source: Pexels
I took a breath. Tried to keep calm. “You do know the baby’s crawling soon, right? She’s going to have her face in this carpet.”
Another shrug. “The place isn’t that bad.”
I looked around. There were literal cat tumbleweeds in the corner.
“And anyway,” he added, “I don’t have spare money right now. I’m saving for the yacht trip next month. With the guys.”
“You’re saving for what?”
A man turning away from his wife | Source: Pexels
“The boat weekend. I told you. I need the break. I’m the one bringing in income right now. It’s exhausting.”
That’s when I stopped talking. Because what was I going to say?
“You haven’t changed a diaper in days?” “You nap while I pump milk at 3 a.m.?” “You think scrubbing spit-up off a onesie is relaxing?”
I didn’t say any of it. I just nodded.
A sad woman sitting on the couch | Source: Pexels
Apparently, child-rearing is a spa retreat now, and the woman doing it doesn’t deserve a working vacuum. That night, after Lila finally fell asleep on my chest, I didn’t cry. I didn’t yell.
I just sat in the hallway. The light was off, but the dim glow from the nightlight hit the baby monitor just right. It was quiet. Too quiet.
I looked at the broken vacuum. Then I looked at the broom.
A crying woman | Source: Pexels
I got up. Took the broom in both hands. Snapped it clean in half.
The next morning, while Mason was at work, I texted him.
“Busy day at the office?”
“Yeah. Back-to-backs. Why?”
“Oh. No reason. I’m just on my way.”
A woman talking on her phone at home | Source: Pexels
I packed Lila into the car, still red-faced from her morning meltdown. I tossed the broken broom in the back.
And I drove.
I pulled into the parking lot of Mason’s office with Lila screaming in the back like I’d strapped her into a rocket seat instead of a car seat. She’d just blown out her diaper on the drive, and she wasn’t shy about letting me know how she felt about it.
A baby crying | Source: Pexels
Perfect.
I wiped spit-up off my shirt, threw a burp cloth over my shoulder, hoisted the broken broom, and unbuckled the baby.
“Alright, Lila,” I muttered. “Let’s go say hi to Daddy.”
His office building was all glass and steel and fake smiles. I walked in with a red-faced baby in one arm and a jagged broom handle in the other.
A woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels
The receptionist blinked twice when she saw us.
“Can I help—?”
“I’m Mason Carter’s wife,” I said, smiling widely. “He left something important at home.”
“Oh. Um. Sure. He’s in a meeting, but you can go back.”
I walked past her desk like I owned the place.
A kind woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels
Lila started wailing again just as I turned the corner into the conference room. There he was. Mason. Sitting at a long glass table with four coworkers, laughing about something on a spreadsheet like he didn’t have a wife slowly unraveling at home.
He looked up. His face went white.
“Babe—what are you doing here?” he said, standing up fast.
I walked straight in and laid the two snapped broom pieces gently on the table in front of him.
A shocked man | Source: Pexels
“Honey,” I said, shifting Lila on my hip, “I tried using the broom like your mom did with her five kids. But it broke. Again.”
The room went silent. Someone coughed. One guy just stared at his laptop like it was suddenly the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.
I looked around the room and kept going.
A woman cuddling a sleeping baby | Source: Pexels
“So,” I said calmly, “should I keep sweeping the carpet with my hands while holding your daughter? Or are you going to buy a new vacuum?”
Mason looked like he might actually faint. His eyes darted between me, the broom, and his coworkers. His jaw opened and closed like he couldn’t decide which disaster to address first.
“Can we talk outside?” he said, his voice sharp and low, already standing.
“Of course,” I said with a smile.
A tired man looking at the camera | Source: Pexels
He yanked the door closed behind us hard enough that the glass shook.
“What the hell was that?” he hissed. His face was bright red now, all his calm corporate charm gone.
“That was me being resourceful,” I said. “Like your mom.”
“You embarrassed me!” he snapped, glancing over his shoulder toward the conference room. “That was a client pitch. My boss was in there.”
An angry businessman | Source: Pexels
“Oh, sorry,” I said, cocking my head. “I thought you said this was all part of the job. Housewife stuff. What’s the issue? I’m just doing what you said.”
He ran a hand over his face, frustrated. “I get it, okay? I messed up. I’ll get the vacuum today.”
“No need,” I said. “I already ordered one. With your card.”
I turned and walked out, Lila still crying, broom handle still under my arm.
A baby crying in their mother’s arms | Source: Pexels
Mason got home that night quieter than usual. He didn’t toss his shoes in the hallway. Didn’t drop his keys on the counter like usual. Didn’t even glance at the Xbox.
I was on the couch feeding Lila. The living room was dim except for the glow from a floor lamp and the soft hum of the white noise machine in the corner. He sat down across from me, hands folded like he was waiting to be called into the principal’s office.
A serious man sitting down | Source: Pexels
“I talked to HR today,” he said.
I looked up slowly. “HR?”
He nodded, staring at the carpet like it had answers. “Yeah. About our… situation. I said we were going through an adjustment. Stress at home. Lack of sleep. You know.”
I blinked at him. “You mean, you told your job your wife embarrassed you because she’s tired and doesn’t have a vacuum?”
A woman talking to an annoyed man | Source: Pexels
He rubbed his neck. “That’s not what I said. I just… I didn’t mean to be dismissive, okay? I’ve got a lot going on too.”
I let a beat pass. Lila made a soft grunt in her sleep.
I didn’t yell. Didn’t even raise my voice. I just looked at him and said, calm as ever, “Mason, you’re either a husband and a father, or you’re a roommate with a guilt complex. You decide.”
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Pexels
He opened his mouth like he might argue. Then he closed it. Just nodded slowly, lips pressed together like he was swallowing something bitter.
The next morning, the yacht trip got canceled. He said the guys were “rescheduling,” but I didn’t ask questions. Pretty sure “the guys” didn’t even know it was happening.
A man talking on his phone | Source: Pexels
That week, he vacuumed every rug in the house—twice. He looked like he was fighting a war with the dust bunnies. Didn’t say a word about it.
He changed three diapers without being asked. Took the 3 a.m. bottle shift two nights in a row, even when Lila screamed in his face like she knew he was new at it. He paced the hallway with her until she passed out on his shoulder.
A man on his laptop while holding a baby | Source: Pexels
He even took her for a walk Sunday morning so I could nap. Left a sticky note on the bathroom mirror that said, “Sleep. I’ve got her.”
I didn’t gloat. Didn’t say “told you so.” Didn’t bring up the office.
But the broken broom? Still sitting in the hallway, right where I left it. Just in case he forgets.
A wooden broom | Source: Pexels
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
My Husband Is Simping over His Sister-in-Law Like Crazy – I Had Enough & Gave Him a Lesson of Respect He Will Never Forget
My husband always praises and compliments his sister-in-law like she is the most perfect human being. Even when she is not around, he talks about her. It makes me feel awful compared to her. One day, I taught him a lesson that nearly made him cry.
My husband, Jerry, and I have been married for almost four years. We have two beautiful children, and while our lives have been busy and chaotic, we’ve managed to keep our relationship strong.
Parents with their two kids outdoors | Source: FreePik
Besides the occasional arguments, there is one thing Jerry does that annoys me. I don’t know if my husband does this on purpose or if just has a low EQ, but he knows that it bothers me yet he still does it.
A woman annoyed at a man | Source: Pexels
He thinks the sun shines out of his sister-in-law’s bottom. He sees her as a goddess, the embodiment of perfection. Nothing she says or does is wrong. Whenever we visit her, Jerry talks about her for three to four days afterward like he is in a trance. He compliments LITERALLY EVERYTHING she does.
One would think he was cheating, but I am sure he is not. They don’t even talk besides the times we all get together. Is he in love with her? I have no idea, but he is definitely insensitive towards my feelings.
A man in admiration | Source: FreePik
His sister-in-law, Grace, is married to Jerry’s brother, Martin. She’s always been the picture-perfect homemaker: three kids, an immaculate house, homemade meals. She somehow always looks put together. She makes motherhood seem so easy.
I’ve always admired her but never felt the need to compete. However, Jerry’s constant praise of her started to wear me down. One of our recent visits got the best of me, so I decided to give my husband a taste of his own medicine.
A woman annoyed | Source: FreePik
We visited last weekend to see their new baby. I swear he was paying more attention to her and the baby than he ever did to me or any of our children. He complimented everything about her, from how she looked to how clean the house was to the delicious food.
A woman cleaning the house | Source: Pexels
“Wow, Grace! No one would ever think you had just given birth. You look incredible!” he said as we entered their home.
He even praised how she made the bread and how she managed to recall our favorite dishes and desserts. “You are a superwoman,” he said. “Definitely limited edition.” I literally had it with him and said “enough” a couple of times, but he just ignored me. Meanwhile, Grace just giggled and welcomed the compliments.
A woman baking | Source: Pexels
At one point, she noticed that I was no longer comfortable with Jerry’s admiration. She would try to instead compliment me, but it was like my husband heard nothing.
Even when we arrived home, the praising continued. “Honey, isn’t it amazing how Grace can manage three kids and keep their home so neat and clean? What does that woman take?!” I tried to change the topic several times and even showed him I was annoyed. Still, Jerry kept going on as if he couldn’t take a hint.
A man talking to a woman | Source: FreePik
I had enough. So, yesterday, when we went to his sister-in-law’s again, I decided to turn the tables. As soon as we arrived, I started laying it on thick. We had a barbecue on their patio and Martin was behind the grilling. “Isn’t Martin amazing?” I said to Jerry’s sister-in-law. “He helps out so much and hasn’t succumbed to the dad bod yet. How incredible.”
A woman smiling at a man | Source: FreePik
My husband looked at me, startled, while his sister-in-law’s eyes widened. But I wasn’t done. “He is so fit in his 40s!” True enough, Martin was in shape and regularly went to the gym. He also watched what he ate.
I continued, ignoring the increasingly tense atmosphere. As we were about to go home, I noticed their new patio decor and added it to my list of compliments. “Did you build those, Martin?” I asked. “Wow, you have golden hands. Jerry can’t even screw in a light bulb,” I quipped.
Home patio decor | Source: Pexels
My brother-in-law, Martin, looked content receiving the compliments, smiling modestly. But his wife, Grace, and my husband, Jerry, visibly looked awkward. Jerry’s face turned red, and he started fidgeting.
When I mentioned how great Martin’s hair was, Jerry, who had hair problems and was slowly becoming bald, suddenly ran to our car.
An upset man | Source: FreePik
I excused myself and went after him. I found him in our car, nearly crying. “Okay, I got it,” he said. “My brother is better than me in everything, so why did you marry me then?”
Jerry went on to say that he has always been compared to his brother. However, hearing it from me made it sting even more. He went on to accuse me of being in love with his brother, and I just laughed.
A couple fighting in the car | Source: Pexels
I took a deep breath and replied calmly, “I just did the same thing you’ve been doing to me for the last few years.”
“What do you mean?” he replied.
“I mean, you always praise Grace in front of my face. You’re so obsessed with that you talk about her even when we’re no longer in their home. You make her seem like a God! Maybe YOU are in love with her!”
A couple fighting in the car | Source: Pexels
He was silent for a moment, then drove home suddenly. He was quiet for the rest of the evening and slept much earlier than usual.
A man in tears | Source: Pexels
The next morning, he came to me with flowers and an apology. “I’m so sorry, Penelope,” he began. “I appreciated Grace’s housekeeping skills because it was hard for me to manage work and house chores. I wasn’t complimenting her in comparison to you. I was complimenting her in comparison to ME.”
A man holding a bouquet of roses | Source: FreePik
He added, “I have been feeling like a lousy husband when it comes to household work, and I just wish I could be more like her. But I hadn’t realized how my words affected you. I promise to become a better husband and pay you more attention.”
I looked at him, holding the bouquet, his eyes filled with remorse and tears about to fall. Part of me wanted to believe him, to forgive and move on. But another part of me was still hurt, still stinging from the months of feeling second best.
A thinking woman | Source: FreePik
The next few weeks were a mixture of cautious hope and lingering doubt. Jerry started making small changes. He was helping more around the house, planning surprise date nights, and most importantly, expressing genuine appreciation for everything I did.
Maybe everything he said was true, but the fact that my husband felt that way meant I did something or didn’t do something. Was I lacking in making him feel appreciated? Was he just that insensitive to my feelings?
Unlike Jerry, another husband has been making his wife feel wonderful. At 50, he began to change into the man he was when she fell in love.
My Husband Turned 50 and He Suddenly Became the Man I Married
My husband, Chris, and I have been married for over twenty years. He has always been a good man and a wonderful father to our kids. In the early days, he was incredibly affectionate, and couldn’t keep his hands off me. We had this electric chemistry that I thought would never fade.
A couple enjoying time on the internet | Source: Pexels
But, after the kids came along, things started to change. The affection, the romance, and even the playful flirting that we once had, all began to fade away. It got to the point where I felt like we were just roommates. I read about couples losing intimacy and romance after having children, but I didn’t think it would happen to me.
A woman on her laptop and her family sleeping on the bed | Source: Pexels
Then, two months ago, something completely unexpected happened. Out of the blue, Chris asked me if I wanted to go away for the weekend, just the two of us. It was such a shock that I almost didn’t believe it at first. We hadn’t done something like that in years. But I agreed, hoping it would rekindle some of what we had lost.
A couple sitting by the beach | Source: Pexels
When we got back home, his new attitude continued. He started losing weight and getting more toned. He looked better than he did when we got married, and I found it difficult to keep my hands off him. I couldn’t help but wonder what had caused this sudden transformation.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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