When my husband, Keith, casually announced he was going on vacation with his parents — without even asking me — I was stunned. Our daughter, Lily, was only twelve weeks old. I was running on sleepless nights and coffee, yet his excuse for leaving was simple and cruel: “You don’t work.” That one sentence stung more than any exhaustion. In his eyes, maternity leave meant I was on break, not holding our family together.
So, I smiled, said nothing, and watched him leave. Then I quietly packed up Lily, drove to my mom’s, and let him experience life without his “non-working” wife. I canceled a few bill payments, emptied the fridge, and switched off my phone. For the first time in weeks, I felt peace.
Two days later, I powered my phone back on. The messages flooded in: “Where are you?” … “Why is the power out?” … “I can’t find my suit!” I let him sweat another day before replying: “Thought I’d take a vacation too — since I don’t work.”
By the time I returned, the house was in chaos, and Keith looked exhausted. He apologized, admitting he had completely underestimated everything I did. I handed him a printed list of chores we’d now share — and to his credit, he’s kept his word. Sometimes, the best lessons aren’t spoken. They’re lived.