My Husband Created a New Schedule for Me to Become a Better Wife, I Taught Him a Good Lesson in Response
I was speechless when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule he’d made to help me “become a better wife.” Instead of losing it, I decided to play along, knowing he was in for a lesson he’d never forget. He had no clue that his attempt to improve our marriage would backfire in the best way possible.
In our relationship, I’ve always been the calm, reasonable one. Jake, on the other hand, bless him, is easily influenced by the latest trend or some random YouTube video claiming to change lives with three simple steps.
Everything was fine until Jake befriended Steve. Steve was one of those guys who believed being loud made him right, always ready to bulldoze over any attempt at a correction. Unsurprisingly, he was also perpetually single, yet eager to offer relationship advice to his married friends, Jake included. Despite my husband’s generally good judgment, Jake became enamored with Steve’s misplaced confidence.
Things took a turn when Jake started parroting Steve’s ridiculous comments.
“Steve says marriages thrive when the wife takes charge of the household,” he’d announce, or “Steve believes women should always look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.”
I’d roll my eyes, making sarcastic quips in response, but it was clear something was changing. Jake began sighing when I ordered takeout instead of cooking and side-eyeing me when the laundry piled up—forgetting, of course, that I also had a full-time job.
Then came the breaking point. One evening, he sat me down and slid a piece of paper across the table, his tone laced with a new, condescending edge.
“You’re a great wife, Lisa, but I think there’s room for improvement,” he began.
My eyebrow shot up. “Oh really?”
Completely oblivious to the danger zone he was entering, he went on. “Steve helped me see that our marriage could be even better if you stepped up a bit.”
I looked down at the paper. At the top, written in bold, was “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife.”
Jake had actually taken advice from Steve—someone who had never even been in a relationship—and created a schedule for me. According to this plan, I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. to make Jake a gourmet breakfast, then hit the gym to “stay in shape,” followed by an endless list of chores before going to work. Every evening, I was to cook a meal from scratch and prepare fancy snacks whenever Jake and his friends decided to hang out at our house.
The whole thing was so sexist and absurd, I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. Instead, I just stared at him, wondering how on earth my husband had lost his mind.
He continued, blissfully unaware. “This will be great for you—and for us.”
That’s when I knew I couldn’t just let this slide. But instead of snapping, I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m lucky to have this. I’ll start tomorrow.”
The relief on his face was immediate. He had no idea what I was planning.
The next morning, I took another look at his ridiculous schedule and knew exactly how to turn the tables. If Jake wanted structure, I’d give him a dose of his own medicine. I pulled out my laptop and started drafting “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” Perfection, after all, comes with a price.
I started by listing all the things he wanted for me, but with a twist—like the gym membership. “$1,200 for a personal trainer,” I typed with a grin.
Then, I tackled the food. If Jake wanted to eat like a king, we’d need to budget for it. “$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote, adding a note for cooking classes because, obviously, a gourmet wife needed culinary training.
And for the pièce de résistance, I calculated the cost of replacing my income if I had to quit my job to keep up with his insane demands. “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary,” I noted, along with a proposal for a $50,000 ‘man cave’ to keep his friends from invading my now-structured life.
By the time I was done, the list was a masterpiece of logistical and financial chaos.
That evening, when Jake walked in, his good mood was evident—until he saw the list on the kitchen counter.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Oh, just a little something to help you become the best husband ever,” I said, barely containing my laughter.
His smirk faded as he scanned the costs, confusion turning into shock. “$1,200 for a trainer? $700 for groceries? What is all this?”
I crossed my arms, leaning against the kitchen island. “You want me to stick to your plan, right? Well, I figured we’d need to budget for it.”
The color drained from his face as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 for your salary? You’re quitting your job?”
I shrugged. “How else can I be the perfect wife?”
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. His grand plan was absurd, and he’d been completely blind to it.
“I didn’t mean for it to be like this…” he mumbled.
I let the silence hang for a moment before responding. “Jake, marriage isn’t about one person being better than the other. It’s about respect. If you ever try to ‘improve’ me like this again, you’ll be paying a lot more than what’s on that list.”
His face softened, the weight of his mistake sinking in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see it for what it was. Steve made it sound reasonable, but now I realize it was toxic.”
We ripped up both lists together, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like we were on the same team again. Marriage isn’t about perfection—it’s about partnership.