“I thought planning a grand dinner party for Todd’s 35th birthday was the perfect way to show my love. Little did I know, he’d ditch it last minute to watch a game at the bar. What happened next? Let’s just say, I turned the tables—and the night—around.
After six years of marriage, you’d expect some gratitude. But not Todd. Every year, I poured my heart into his birthday, and every year, he took it for granted. This time, though, his audacity hit a new high.
When we first met, Todd was charming and thoughtful—the kind of guy who’d write me poetry. But over the years, that charm faded, replaced by entitlement. He wanted the credit for everything without lifting a finger. Take Thanksgiving last year: Todd suggested hosting both our families, but when it came to the work, he waved it off with, “You’re so much better at that stuff.” On the day, while I cooked and cleaned, he carried a cooler of beer into the living room and called it a contribution.
This year, for his birthday, Todd demanded a “big, proper dinner” and left all the planning to me. For weeks, I prepared a feast—stuffed chicken, rosemary potatoes, charcuterie, and a decadent three-layer cake. Todd’s involvement? Zero.
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