My Husband Created a New Schedule for Me to Become a Better Wife, I Taught Him a Good Lesson in Response
When my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule titled “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife,” I was stunned. But instead of losing my cool, I decided to play along. Jake had no idea he was about to get a lesson he wouldn’t forget.
Jake had always been easily influenced. Whether it was a trendy new diet or a random self-help video, he’d dive in headfirst, convinced it would change his life. But his latest obsession wasn’t a fad—it was a person: Steve.
Steve was one of Jake’s colleagues, perpetually single yet full of unsolicited advice on relationships. He had the kind of overconfidence that made you wonder how anyone took him seriously. Unfortunately, Jake did.
“Steve says marriages thrive when the wife handles all the household duties,” Jake casually remarked one evening. “Oh, and that it’s important for women to always look their best for their husbands.”
I raised an eyebrow but didn’t say much. Steve’s opinions were annoying, but I didn’t think they’d affect us. Until Jake brought home The List.
The “Improvement Plan”
Jake slid the paper across the table one evening, his tone smug. “Lisa, you’re an amazing wife, but Steve helped me realize that with a little structure, we could be even happier.”
I unfolded the paper, my jaw tightening as I read. It was a detailed schedule dictating how I should spend my days—waking at 5 a.m. to cook gourmet breakfasts, going to the gym, cleaning, doing laundry, and preparing elaborate dinners. He even suggested I serve snacks to his friends during their hangouts.
It was insulting, archaic, and downright ridiculous. But instead of blowing up, I smiled sweetly. “You’re absolutely right, Jake. I’ll start tomorrow.”
The Counterattack
The next morning, while Jake was at work, I crafted my masterpiece: “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” If he wanted a perfect wife, I’d show him what perfection cost.
I started with his demands. A gym membership and personal trainer? $1,200 a year. Organic groceries for those gourmet meals? $700 a month. Cooking classes? Another $500.
Then I added a kicker: since his plan left no room for my job, I’d need him to cover my lost salary—$75,000 a year. I even suggested building a $50,000 “man cave” so his friends wouldn’t disrupt my “structured” life.
By the time I was done, the list was a financial and logistical nightmare, but it was exactly what Jake needed to see. I printed it out and left it on the kitchen counter.
The Wake-Up Call
When Jake came home that evening, he spotted the paper immediately. “What’s this?” he asked, grinning.
“Oh, just a little schedule I made for you,” I said with a smile. “To help you become the best husband ever.”
He laughed, thinking I was joking. But as he read, his smile vanished. “$1,200 for a trainer? $700 for groceries? $75,000 to replace your salary? Lisa, this is insane!”
“Is it?” I asked, feigning innocence. “You wanted me to follow your schedule. I just budgeted for it. Perfection isn’t cheap, Jake.”
His face turned pale as he realized the absurdity of his demands. “Lisa, I didn’t mean… I just thought—”
“You thought you could micromanage me like a project,” I interrupted. “Marriage isn’t about one person fixing the other. It’s about respect and partnership.”
Jake sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I? Steve made it sound like it would make things better, but now I see how toxic it is.”
“Jake,” I said gently, “you’ve been married for years. Steve hasn’t even been in a long-term relationship. Why would you take advice from him?”
His eyes widened as the truth hit him. “You’re right. I let his nonsense get in my head. I’m sorry, Lisa.”
Back on the Same Team
We ripped up both lists together that night. As the paper shredded into pieces, I felt the tension between us dissolve. Jake admitted he’d been wrong, and I forgave him.
“Marriage isn’t about being perfect,” I said. “It’s about growing together. Let’s stick to that.”
Jake nodded, a sheepish smile on his face. “Deal. No more advice from Steve.”
In the weeks that followed, we laughed about The List, using it as a reminder to communicate better. It wasn’t about one of us being “better”—it was about being better together.