With the holiday being around the corner and our budget being tight, my husband Mike still insisted on inviting his family over for Christmas. For me, that meant endless hours of cleaning and cooking and then listening to his parents’ harsh comments about the kind of housewife I was. But things took even worse turn when Greg, who was incredibly irresponsible with his spending habits, threw $50 at me and told me to cook the Christmas feast, reminding me not to embarrass him in front of his family.
Looking at him, I smiled because I was sure he was joking this time. “Greg, this money isn’t enough for the turkey alone. How do you expect me to cook dinner for that many people with this little money?” I asked. “You’ll figure something out,” he responded. “Look at my mom, she is a magician in the kitchen and never spends much on groceries.”
I couldn’t believe he was doing this to me yet again. Ever since we married two years ago, both he and his parents, Richard and Maureen, treated me as their personal cook and their maid. They even joked about me cooking for every single holiday and most of the weekends. My father-in-law even suggested I start a catering service because I was cooking for free anyways. He then started laughing and his wife and son joined in the fun.
Their remarks and high expectations of me became something I couldn’t put up with any longer.
But, I had a plan. I knew I needed to teach Greg a lesson he would never forget.
He always believed I didn’t deserve to have money on my own, because according to him I didn’t need any. I was a housewife and that’s how he saw me throughout our marriage.
However, I had some savings; money I put aside when doing the grocery shopping. Greg didn’t know of that money and I was about to use it for this Christmas.
So, instead of cooking, I pre-ordered everything from the nicest restaurant in town. I got a roasted turkey, pies, freshly-baked rolls, creamy mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce. The table resembled one from the catalogs. Everything was perfect, all I needed to do was reheat the food.
When Greg saw what I prepared, he said, “I knew you could make this. This is what happens when you have a husband who trusts in you.”
I couldn’t stand the irony in his tone of voice. He thought giving me this little validation would satisfy me.
His parents always judged people who ordered food instead of cooking it at home, saying they didn’t deserve to celebrate properly. They would also say they would never allow themselves to eat takeouts, especially on special days like Christmas.
When they arrived that afternoon, the first thing Maureen said was that I missed a spot at a shelf, pointing to a dust-free space. Anyways, I tried to act as cool as possible and even thanked her for her remark, adding I would take a note for the next time.
Greg, his parents, and his two brothers sat at the perfectly arranged table and couldn’t wait to try my specialties.
It was then that I raised a glass and said I did my best with the $50 my husband gave me and told me to work my magic. Yes, he believed that a Christmas feast was only worth that much money.
His brothers exchanged looks and I told everyone that I was treated as a personal maid and chef for way too long. Then, I revealed that the food was from a restaurant, took my purse, and left the house.
When I got in my car, I headed to the park where I used to find my peace. I opened the bottle of wine I had taken with me and I poured myself a glass.
My phone went crazy. I received so many messages from Greg. They went from anger to desperation.
But I didn’t answer back.
Later that evening, I returned home. Greg was already asleep and the table was still set; the turkey untouched. The chairs were pushed as though the guests were in a hurry to leave the so much anticipated Christmas feast.
In the morning, I told Greg it was done. I filed for divorce and for the first time in two years, I stopped fearing the holidays. I never felt so liberated before.
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Bored Daddy
Love and Peace