I thought I was being a good wife by throwing a party for my husband Todd’s 35th birthday. But as the guests were about to arrive, he told me he was going to watch a game at a bar. What happened next? Let’s just say I had the last laugh.
You’d think six years of marriage would teach someone a little gratitude, but Todd didn’t. Every year, I poured my heart and soul into his birthday, but he took it all for granted.
This year, however, his attitude has reached a whole new level.
A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
Six years. That’s how long we’ve been married.
Actually, our relationship isn’t that bad. Todd can be charming when he wants to be, and we’ve had some wonderful times together. But there’s one thing about him that drives me crazy.
His impulses.
For example, last Thanksgiving. Todd had the brilliant idea to host a dinner for both of our families. He announced it one day over breakfast, smiling as if he had solved the problem of world hunger.
Breakfast on a table | Source: Pexels
“Claire,” he said, “I think we should have Thanksgiving this year.”
“Okay,” I said. “That sounds good. How do we divide up the responsibilities?”
He waved me off as if I had just asked him to do a handstand.
“Oh, you’re so much better at this stuff,” he said. “I’ll take care of… I don’t know, the drinks or whatever. Make it memorable, okay?”
I should have been suspicious, but I agreed.
For two weeks, I planned and prepared while Todd played fantasy football and occasionally asked, “Do you need me to pick up anything?”
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
On the big day, I roasted the turkey, prepared the side dishes and even made two pies.
And Todd? He carried the cooler of beer into the living room. That’s all.
After dinner, with everyone raving about the food and decor, Todd decided it was time to take credit for everything.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said. “I wanted it to be special this year.”
“Oh, really?” I asked. “Which part did you want special? The green bean casserole or the centerpiece?”
A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney
He ignored me, of course.
That’s Todd in a nutshell. He wants all the credit without lifting a finger.
And then there was last year, on his birthday.
I spent weeks creating a personalized photo album, filling it with photos from our travels and special moments together. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he unwrapped it.
But when he was done flipping through the pages, he simply said, “Oh. So where’s the real gift?”
It wasn’t just his words that hurt. It was the sheer audacity.
A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney
I had married a man who had already written me poems, and now he couldn’t appreciate a sincere gesture. That moment broke something inside me.
I realized he was no longer the man I had fallen in love with.
And then came his 35th birthday. The straw that broke the camel’s back.
We were having dinner when Todd casually told me his plans.
“Claire, I want a big, proper birthday dinner this year,” he told me. “Invite the family, my friends, everyone.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You mean you want me to organize it?”
A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney
“Well, yeah,” he said. “You’re good at this kind of thing. Make it decent, okay? I don’t want to be embarrassed in front of everyone.”
“Decent?” I repeated.
“Yes, but don’t overdo it.”
So he thinks he deserves a birthday party when he knows how much he hurt me with his words last time?
Honestly, I didn’t want to agree, but I decided to give him another chance. After all, it was his birthday and I wanted to make it special even if he didn’t deserve it.
Close-up of a woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney
For the next two weeks, I threw myself into planning Todd’s “big birthday dinner.” If he wanted something fancy, I’d give it to him.
I wrote an impressive menu that included spinach-stuffed chicken, rosemary potatoes, a charcuterie board with cheeses I couldn’t pronounce, and a three-layer chocolate cake that would be the pièce de résistance.
Every day after work, I came home, tied my hair up, and got to work cleaning, organizing, and prepping. I even borrowed extra chairs and a folding table from our neighbor, Janice, just to make sure everyone had a seat.
Todd’s contribution? Absolutely nothing.
A woman cleaning the house | Source: Pexels
“I’m swamped,” he said one night. “But you’ve got what it takes, baby. You’re good at this stuff.”
Good at these things? I was so tired I could have cried.
But instead of breaking down, I smiled and said, “Yeah, I’m good at this.”
The day of the party has finally arrived.
I woke up early, determined that everything would be perfect.
A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney
The house was spotless. The table was set with matching linens and little name cards I had handwritten. The appetizers were chilled, the main courses were simmering, and the cake was decorated with edible gold flakes.
Yes, I went really far.
Todd wandered into the kitchen around noon, scrolling through his phone as usual. He barely glanced at the dish I had prepared.
“That looks good,” he said, opening the refrigerator to grab a soda.
“Looks good?” I repeated, half joking but half hoping he would notice the effort I had made.
A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah,” he said, closing the fridge door. Then he added, “But hey, uh, don’t bother finishing all that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to the bar with my friends to watch the game. Cancel everything. Tell everyone something happened.”
“Are you ditching your own birthday dinner?” I asked. “Todd, I’ve been planning this for weeks!”
“It’s okay, Claire,” he said. “Just call everyone and tell them we’re busy or something. They’ll understand.”
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
“Will they understand?” My voice rose. “Todd, people are already on their way! You told me to make it decent and now you’re leaving?”
“I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of the guys,” he said.
Then he grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.
“You can’t do this, Todd!” I shouted, but he was already gone.
I was heartbroken. I had put my heart, soul, and savings into this dinner, and he was gone like nothing had happened.
A woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney
Cancel everything? After all the work I had done?
But more than anything, I felt humiliated.
How could he treat me like this? How could he brush aside all my efforts as if they were of no importance?
I stared at the table as the candles flickered.
Is this what you’re worth, Claire? I wondered. Is this how you’ll let Todd treat you? No. You can’t.
At that point, I decided not to cancel dinner. I wouldn’t allow him to make me feel bad again.
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
If Todd wanted to act like a spoiled brat, I’d let him, but not without showing him what humiliation really felt like. He had no idea what he was in for.
I grabbed my phone and sent a group message to all the guests:
The party continues! Change of plans. Meet us at the bar on Main Street near us. Bring your appetite!
Then I got to work.
I packed up all the food and loaded it into the car. Then I drove straight to the bar Todd had mentioned.
A woman driving | Source: Pexels
When I arrived, the place was already very noisy. I looked around and saw Todd sitting at a table with his friends, his back to the door.
“Um, ma’am? Can I help you?” the bartender asks, eyes wide after noticing the trays of food I was carrying.
I gave him my best smile. “Oh, I’m just here to share a meal with people who will appreciate it.”
A woman standing in a bar | Source: Midjourney
I picked a table near the bar, within sight of Todd’s group, and began unwrapping one dish after another. The aroma of the food quickly caught everyone’s attention. Patrons standing nearby craned their necks to see what was happening.
“What is it about?” a man asks.
“Oh, this was supposed to be my husband’s birthday dinner. But he decided to ditch me and come here, so I figured, why let all this food go to waste?”
A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
The room erupted in laughter, and a few people even applauded. That’s when Todd finally turned around and saw me.
He immediately stormed over while his buddies whispered among themselves.
“Claire! What are you doing?” he asked.
I didn’t even look at it.
Instead, I addressed the nearest group of customers. “Do you like ham? Help yourself! There’s cake, too.”
A close-up of food on a plate | Source: Pexels
Just as Todd was stammering out another protest, the front door opened and his parents, my parents, his sister, and our cousins walked in.
They looked at us, then at the food, then at all the people munching on what was supposed to be a formal dinner.
Todd’s mother, blessing his honesty, approached him. “What’s going on, Todd? Claire told me to meet you here for your birthday dinner, but why is she serving food in a bar?”
An older woman | Source: Midjourney
Todd looked very embarrassed.
“Uh, it’s complicated, Mom,” he said.
“Todd decided that watching the game with his friends was more important than the dinner he demanded I make. So I brought him dinner!” I said.
His father shook his head. “How disrespectful,” he said.
Meanwhile, my mother picked up a plate and said, “Well, the food smells delicious. Let’s eat!”
A woman in a bar | Source: Midjourney
Both of our families joined the other customers and dove into the feast I had worked so hard to prepare.
And Todd’s friends? They were still laughing at his expense and told him they would never forget this day.
When I took the cake out, the bar looked like a real party. On the top of the cake, in bold letters of frosting, I had written:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SELFISH HUSBAND!
The bar burst out laughing when I read it out loud, but Todd wasn’t too happy.
A man laughing | Source: Pexels
“Was that really necessary, Claire?” he asked.
I nodded, smiling kindly. “Absolutely.”
Once everyone was done, I started putting away the empty trays. That’s when the bartender stopped me.
“Madam, you are a legend,” he said to me. “A drink on the house if you ever come back. Without him, of course!”
I started laughing. “I’ll definitely come see you someday.”
The families didn’t stay long after the meal was over. My father gave me a proud nod as he left, while Todd’s mother told him he could have done better.
An elderly woman speaking to her son | Source: Midjourney
As we drove home, Todd kept muttering about how he had been “humiliated.” Once we got back, he protested even louder.
“Claire, you humiliated me in front of everyone!” he said.
“No, Todd,” I said. “You humiliated yourself. And for the record, don’t expect another home-cooked meal anytime soon.”
He knew he couldn’t argue with me at this point. He just turned on his heel and stormed off to the bedroom.
A door handle | Source: Pexels
Two weeks have passed since that night, and Todd has changed. Well, mostly.
His unrealistic demands lessened and he was unusually polite, almost as if he was afraid I would pull another stunt like that. He didn’t apologize outright for leaving me, but his sheepish demeanor spoke volumes.
I guess he knows now that I’m not the kind of woman who lets himself be pushed around and accepts his nonsense. At the very least, it’s a victory for me.
A woman standing near a window | Source: Pexels
What would you have done in my place?
Read also: We Cut the Cake at Our Gender Reveal Party, and It Was Black — My Mother-in-Law, Dressed in Black, Stood Away and Cried
This work is inspired by real events and persons, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to real events is purely coincidental and is not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims as to the accuracy of events or portrayal of characters and are not responsible for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and all opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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