I Came Home Early and Went Pale When I Saw My Husband Performing His Spanish Tradition over Our 6-Month-Old Baby

When Tess walked into her home earlier than expected, she never imagined the scene that would greet her. There was her husband, Javier, dressed in a devil costume, jumping over their six-month-old baby. Stunned and terrified, Tess couldn’t understand what on earth was happening, or why Javier would do something so reckless behind her back.

“I wasn’t supposed to be home yet,” I thought as I stood frozen in the doorway, keys dangling from my hand. I had come back early from visiting my sister, Kayla, who was due to give birth any day.

“Go home, Tess,” Kayla had insisted earlier, her hands resting on her pregnant belly. “Dante and Javier need you more right now. I’m just waiting for this little girl to arrive.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, making her a smoothie. “I know how lonely it can feel when you’re about to give birth, even with people around.”

Kayla smiled. “I’m sure. Go spend time with your family. You’ll be the first to know when your niece is born.”

And so I left. I had hoped to surprise Javier and have a quiet evening with our baby boy, Dante. But as I walked into our home, my plans unraveled.

In front of me, Javier was dressed head to toe in a ridiculous devil costume—horns, cape, the whole thing. On the floor, Dante lay on his tummy-time mattress, blissfully unaware of the chaos.

It wasn’t Halloween, and it wasn’t a joke. And then, to my utter shock, Javier leapt over our baby.

“What the hell?” I gasped, the scene too surreal to process.

I screamed, “Are you insane?! What are you doing, Javier?”

Javier froze mid-leap, stumbling as he landed, and fumbled with the mask. My heart pounded in my chest, while in the background, his mother, Lucia, calmly recorded the whole thing on her phone, a proud smile on her face.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Javier ripped off the mask, his face filled with guilt.

“Explain?!” I shouted, my voice shaking. “You’re dressed like the devil and jumping over our baby! What could possibly explain this madness?”

Javier raised his hands, trying to calm me down. “It’s not dangerous, Tess, I swear. It’s a tradition from Spain, from my village. It’s called El Colacho—we do it every year. It’s supposed to protect babies from evil spirits and bad luck.”

“El Colacho?” I echoed in disbelief. “You’re telling me this is about warding off bad luck?”

Lucia stepped in, her phone still recording. “It’s an old tradition, Tess. It’s meant to keep evil spirits away and bring good luck to the baby. We’ve been doing this for generations.”

I was furious. “I don’t care if it’s a tradition from the moon. Why didn’t you tell me? I’m his mother—I should’ve known about this!”

Javier rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding my eyes. “I didn’t think you’d understand…”

“Of course, I don’t understand!” I snapped. “You’re leaping over our baby! What if something had gone wrong? What if you’d slipped?”

Javier flinched, glancing at Dante, still blissfully unaware of the chaos. “I wouldn’t have slipped, Tess. I’ve done this before. It’s safe.”

“But why not tell me?” I demanded, my voice breaking. “You should have told me, prepared me for this. I had to walk in and see you like this—how could I not freak out?”

Javier’s shoulders slumped. “You weren’t supposed to come home until later. I was going to explain everything after.”

“After what? After I saw you do something so reckless?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Lucia chimed in again. “Tess, don’t overreact. This was a good thing. This tradition will protect your son.”

I stood there, seething. The betrayal stung deeply. It wasn’t just about the tradition—it was about not being included in a decision that concerned our child.

Javier’s face softened with guilt. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I should’ve told you.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of my anger but also the tug of guilt for maybe overreacting. “You should’ve told me, Javier. I deserve to know what’s happening with our child.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “It won’t happen again. I’ll never keep anything like this from you again.”

Lucia gathered her things and said, “I’ll leave you two to talk. Remember, Tess, this is for Dante’s good.”

She left, and the room fell into silence. I looked down at my son, picking him up and holding him close.

“Next time,” I said firmly, “no more surprises. I need to be part of these decisions, especially when it involves traditions I don’t understand.”

“No more surprises,” Javier promised. “Let’s go downstairs. I made paella for dinner. I was going to explain everything over dinner.”

We headed downstairs, and as Javier brought over a plate, he asked, “Maybe you’d like to learn more about our traditions? We could do it together.”

“Maybe,” I replied, still processing everything. “But no more jumping over our baby, okay?”

He chuckled softly. “No more jumping.”

I understood the importance of family traditions, but this was too much for me. I held Dante tightly, grateful nothing had gone wrong.

What would you have done if you were in my shoes?