I was completely stunned when my husband, Jake, handed me a carefully written schedule he said was supposed to help me “become a better wife.” Honestly, I could have lost it right then and there, but instead, I kept my cool and played along. Little did Jake know, I was already planning a little lesson that would make him rethink this whole “new marriage approach” of his.
I’ve always thought of myself as the calm, reasonable one in our relationship. Jake, bless him, tends to get carried away pretty easily — whether it’s diving into a new hobby or obsessing over some viral YouTube video that promises to change his life with three easy steps.
We were happy, steady, solid — until Jake met Steve.
Steve was that kind of guy who thought that being loud and opinionated automatically made him right. He would talk over people, interrupt you mid-sentence, and never really listen. He was also permanently single (big surprise there), yet somehow he was dishing out relationship advice to all his married coworkers, Jake included.
Jake should have known better, but he was smitten. Steve’s confidence was like a magnet, and my husband couldn’t get enough.
At first, I didn’t worry much. But soon, Jake started repeating some awful ideas.
“Steve says relationships work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” Jake would say, almost like he was quoting scripture.
Or, “Steve thinks it’s important for women to always look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.”
I rolled my eyes a lot and made sarcastic comments like, “Oh, sure, because marriage is all about appearances now, right?”
But honestly, it started to bother me. Jake was changing. He would raise his eyebrows disapprovingly if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and sigh deeply when I let laundry pile up because, hello, I have a full-time job too!
Then one night, it happened.
Jake came home with what I will forever call The List.
He sat me down at our kitchen table, pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper, and slid it across to me with a serious look.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said in a tone that was almost dripping with condescension — something I’d never heard from him before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa. But there’s room for improvement.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”
He nodded, totally unaware he was stepping into a minefield. “Yeah. Steve helped me realize our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
I looked down at the paper he pushed toward me. At the top, in big bold letters, it said, Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife.
Jake had actually sat down and mapped out my entire week — every minute of it — based on what Steve, a single guy with zero relationship experience, thought I should do to “improve” myself as a wife.
According to the schedule, I was supposed to get up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast. Then hit the gym for an hour to “stay in shape.”
After that? A non-stop list of chores: cleaning, laundry, ironing — and that was all before I left for work. Every evening, I was to cook meals from scratch and prepare fancy snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over to hang out at our place.
It was sexist and insulting on so many levels that I honestly didn’t know where to start. I just stared at him, dumbfounded, wondering if my husband had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” Jake went on, completely missing my reaction.
“Steve says it’s important to maintain structure, and I think you could benefit from —”
“Benefit from what?” I cut him off, my voice eerily calm.
Jake blinked, caught off guard by my tone, but recovered quickly.
“Well, you know, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to grab that paper and throw it right in his face. Instead, I did something even more unexpected: I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said, sweet as sugar. “I’m so lucky you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
His relief was immediate. I almost felt sorry for him as I stuck the list right on the fridge. Almost. Little did he know, he was in for a surprise.
The next day, I couldn’t help but smirk as I stared at that ridiculous schedule again. If Jake thought he could just hand me a list of “improvements” like that and expect me to obey, he was about to learn exactly how much structure our life could really take.
I grabbed my laptop, opened a fresh document, and titled it: Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.
He wanted a perfect wife? Fine. But perfection has a price.
I started by listing all the things he wanted for me — starting with that gym membership he was so excited about.
“$1,200 for a personal trainer.” I typed, barely able to hold back a giggle.
Next was the food. If Jake wanted to eat like a king with organic, non-GMO, free-range everything, well, that wasn’t happening on our current grocery budget.
“$700 per month for groceries.” I wrote. And cooking classes? Those cost a fortune too. Jake was going to have to pay for those if he wanted gourmet meals every night.
I leaned back in my chair, laughing to myself as I imagined his face when he saw this list. But I wasn’t finished — oh no, the best was yet to come.
If Jake really expected me to juggle all this and keep my job, he was dreaming. If I was going to follow his insane routine full-time, then he’d have to make up for the lost income.
I pulled up the calculator and added it to the list with a little note:
“$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time personal assistant, maid, and chef.”
My stomach hurt from laughing.
For good measure, I added a final item.
Since Jake loved having his friends over all the time, he was going to need a special place for them — somewhere that wouldn’t interfere with my new, impossibly organized life.
“$50,000 to build a separate ‘man cave’ so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s schedule.”
When I was done, the list was a masterpiece. Sure, it was a financial and logistical nightmare — but it was also a wake-up call.
I printed it, set it neatly on the kitchen counter, and waited.
When Jake came home that evening, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called, dropping his keys on the counter.
Almost immediately, he spotted the paper.
“What’s this?” he asked, curiosity written all over his face.
I kept my face calm, fighting the urge to laugh.
“Oh, it’s just a little list I put together for you,” I said sweetly. “To help you become the best husband ever.”
Jake chuckled, thinking I was playing along with his little game.
But as he read through the first few lines, the smile faded.
I saw the wheels turning in his head, the slow dawning that this was no lighthearted joke.
“Wait… what is all this?” he squinted at the numbers, eyes wide as he saw the total costs. “$1,200 for a personal trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I leaned on the kitchen island, crossing my arms.
“Well, you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., hit the gym, make gourmet breakfasts, clean the house, cook dinner, and host your friends. I figured we should budget for all of that. Don’t you think?”
His face went pale as he flipped through the pages.
“$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?!” he asked, disbelief in his voice.
I shrugged. “How else am I supposed to follow your plan? I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
Jake stared at the paper, dumbfounded.
The numbers. The absurdity of his own demands. It all hit him at once. His smugness vanished, replaced by a dawning, sinking feeling that he’d seriously messed up.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jake stammered, looking at me with wide eyes. “Lisa, I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I just thought —”
“You thought what?” I interrupted, calm but hurt. “That I could ‘improve’ myself like some kind of project?”
Jake opened his mouth but didn’t speak. I went on.
“Marriage isn’t about lists or routines. It’s about respect. And if you ever try to ‘fix’ me like this again, you’ll be paying a hell of a lot more than what’s on that paper.”
Silence fell over the kitchen, thick and heavy. Jake’s face softened. His shoulders slumped as he let out a deep sigh.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize how ridiculous it was. Steve made it sound sensible, but now I see… it’s toxic. Oh God, I’ve been such a fool.”
I nodded slowly, watching him carefully.
“Honestly, Jake, have you even looked at Steve’s life? What makes you think he has the experience to give advice about marriage? Or anything else?”
The look on Jake’s face as my words hit home was priceless.
“You’re right. He could never afford to live like this,” Jake said, slapping the list with the back of his hand. “He has no idea about the costs or how demeaning this all is. Oh, Lisa, I got carried away again, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but we’ll recover,” I said. “Now, let’s tear that paper up and go back to being equals.”
He smiled weakly, the tension finally breaking a little.
“Yeah… let’s do that.”
Together, we ripped up the list. For the first time in weeks, I felt like we were really back on the same team.
