thought I was being a good wife, throwing a festive dinner for my husband Todd’s 35th birthday. But just as the guests were about to arrive, he told me he was ditching the party to watch the game at a bar. What happened next? Let’s just say, I got the last laugh.

Six years. That’s how long Todd and I have been married.

Don’t get me wrong, our relationship isn’t all 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 absolutely up the wall.

Take last Thanksgiving, for example. Todd had this brilliant idea to host a dinner for both of our families. He announced it at breakfast one day, grinning like he’d solved world hunger.

Breakfast on a table | Source: Pexels

“Claire,” he said, “I think we should host Thanksgiving this year.”

Okay,” I replied. “That sounds nice. How are we dividing up the responsibilities?”

He waved me off like I’d just asked him to do a headstand.

“Oh, you’re so much better at that stuff,” he said. “I’ll handle… I don’t know, drinks or something. Just make it memorable, alright?”

I should’ve known better, but I went along with it.

For two weeks, I planned and prepped while Todd played fantasy football and occasionally asked me, “You need me to pick up anything?”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

On the big day, I roasted the turkey, whipped up sides, and even made two pies.

And Todd? He carried the cooler of beer into the living room. That’s it.