I 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.
You’d think six years of marriage would teach someone a little gratitude, but not Todd. Every year, I’d pour my heart and soul into his birthday, only for him to take it all for granted.
This year, though, his entitlement hit a whole new level.
A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
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.
His entitlement.
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.
After dinner, as everyone raved about the food and decor, Todd decided it was time to take credit for everything.
“Glad you all love it,” he said. “I wanted it to be special this year.”
I thought I’d misheard him.
“Oh, really?” I asked. “What part did you want special? The green bean casserole or the centerpiece?”
A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney
He ignored me, of course.
And that’s Todd in a nutshell. He wants the credit without lifting a finger.
Then there was last year on his birthday.
I spent weeks creating a customized photo album, filling it with pictures from our travels and special moments together. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he unwrapped it.
But when he was done flipping through the pages, he just said, “Oh. So, where’s the real gift?”
It wasn’t just his words that hurt. It was the sheer audacity.
A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney
I’d married a man who once wrote me poetry, and now he couldn’t appreciate a heartfelt gesture. That moment shattered something in me.
It made me realize he wasn’t the man I’d fallen for anymore.
And then came his 35th birthday. The final straw.
We were having dinner when Todd casually told me his plans.
“Claire, I want a big, proper birthday dinner this year,” he said. “Invite the family, my buddies, everyone.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You mean you want me to plan it?”
A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney
“Well, yeah,” he said. “You’re good at this stuff. Just make it decent, alright? I don’t want to be embarrassed in front of everyone.”
“Decent?” I repeated.
“Yeah, just don’t go overboard or anything. Keep it classy.”
You see the entitlement here? See the way he thinks he deserves a birthday party while knowing how he’d hurt me with his words last time?
Honestly, I didn’t want to agree, but I decided to give him another chance. After all, it was his birthday, and I wanted to make it special even if he didn’t deserve it.
A close-up shot of a woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney
For the next two weeks, I threw myself into planning Todd’s “big, proper birthday dinner.” If he wanted classy, I’d give him classy.
I drafted an impressive menu that had spinach-stuffed chicken, rosemary potatoes, a charcuterie board with cheeses I couldn’t pronounce, and a three-layer chocolate cake that would be the pièce de résistance.
Every day after work, I’d come home, tie my hair up, and get to work cleaning, organizing, and prepping. I even borrowed extra chairs and a folding table from our neighbor, Janice, just to make sure everyone would have a seat.
Todd’s contribution? Absolutely nothing.
A woman cleaning the house | Source: Pexels
“I’m swamped at work,” he said one night, kicking off his shoes and plopping onto the couch. “But you’ve got this, babe. You’re good at these things.”
Good at these things? I was so tired I could’ve cried.
But instead of snapping, I smiled and said, “Yeah, I’ve got this.”
The day of the party finally arrived.
I woke up early, determined to make everything perfect.
A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney
The house was spotless. The table was set with matching linens and little name cards I’d handwritten. The appetizers were chilling, the main courses simmering, and the cake was decorated with edible gold flakes.
Yes, I went that far.
Todd strolled into the kitchen around noon, scrolling through his phone as usual. He barely glanced at the spread I’d laid out.
“Looks good,” he muttered as he opened the fridge to grab a soda.
“Looks good?” I repeated, half-joking but half-hoping he’d notice the effort I’d put in.
A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah,” he said, shutting the fridge door. Then, like it was no big deal, he added, “But hey, uh, don’t bother finishing all this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m heading to the bar with the guys to watch the game instead. Cancel everything. Tell everyone something came up.”
“You’re ditching your own birthday dinner?” I asked. “Todd, I’ve been planning this for weeks!”
“It’s not a big deal, Claire,” he shrugged it off. “Just call everyone and tell them we’re busy or something. They’ll understand.”
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
“They’ll understand?” My voice rose. “Todd, people are already on their way! You told me to make this decent and now you’re leaving?”
“I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the guys,” he said, ending the conversation.
Then, he grabbed his jacket and walked out of the door.
“You can’t do this, Todd!” I shouted, but he’d already left.
I was so heartbroken. I’d poured my heart, soul, and savings into this dinner, and he just walked out like it was nothing.
A woman looking outside the window | Source: Midjourney
Cancel everything? After all the work I’d done?
But more than anything, I felt humiliated.
How could he treat me like this? How could he brush off all my efforts as if they didn’t matter?
I stared at the table while the candles flickered mockingly.
Is this what you’re worth, Claire? I asked myself. Is this how you’ll let Todd treat you? No. You can’t do this.
At that point, I decided I wouldn’t cancel the dinner. I won’t allow him to make me feel bad again.
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
If Todd wanted to act like a spoiled brat, I’d let him, but not without showing him what “embarrassing” really looked like. He had no idea who he was messing with.
I grabbed my phone and sent a group text to all the guests:
Party’s still on! Change of plans. Meet us at the bar on the main street near our place. Bring your appetite!
Then, I got to work.
I packed all the food and loaded it into the car. Then, I drove straight to the bar Todd had mentioned.
A woman driving | Source: Pexels
When I arrived, the place was already buzzing with noise. I looked around and spotted Todd sitting at a table with his buddies, his back to the door. He was completely oblivious to my presence.
“Uh, ma’am? Can I help you?” the bartender asked with wide eyes after noticing the trays of food I was carrying.
I flashed him my sweetest smile. “Oh, I’m just here to share a meal with some people who’ll actually appreciate it.”
A woman standing in a bar | Source: Midjourney
I picked a table near the bar, in full view of Todd’s group, and began unpacking dish after dish. The aroma of the food quickly caught everyone’s attention. Patrons nearby craned their necks to see what was going on.
“What’s this about?” one man asked, gesturing toward the feast I was setting up.
I raised my voice just enough to carry across the room. “Oh, this was supposed to be my husband’s birthday dinner. But he decided to ditch me and come here, so I thought, why let all this food go to waste?”
A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
The room erupted in murmurs and laughter, and a few people even clapped. That’s when Todd finally turned around and spotted me.
He immediately stormed over while his buddies murmured amongst themselves.
“Claire! What the hell are you doing?” he hissed, his eyes darting nervously between me and the growing crowd.
I didn’t even look at him.
Instead, I addressed the nearest group of patrons. “You like ham? Help yourselves! There’s cake coming too.”
A close-up shot of food in a plate | Source: Pexels
Just as Todd sputtered out another protest, the front door swung open, and in walked his parents, my parents, his sister, and our cousins.
They looked at us, then at the food, and then at all the people munching on what was supposed to be a formal dinner.
Todd’s mom, bless her bluntness, walked right up to him. “What’s going on, Todd? Claire said to meet here for your birthday dinner, but why is she serving food in a bar?”
An older woman | Source: Midjourney
Todd looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.
“Uh, it’s complicated, Mom,” he muttered.
“Oh, I’d love to explain!” I intervened. “Todd decided that watching the game with his friends was more important than the dinner he demanded I plan. So, I brought the dinner to him!”
His dad shook his head. “How disrespectful,” he muttered.
Meanwhile, my mom grabbed a plate and said, “Well, the food smells amazing. Let’s eat!”
A woman in a bar | Source: Midjourney
Soon, both our families joined the other patrons and dug into the feast I’d worked so hard on.
And Todd’s friends? They were still laughing at his expense and told him they’ll never forget this day.
By the time I brought out the cake, the bar felt like a full-blown party. On top of the cake, in bold frosting letters, I had written:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SELFISH HUSBAND!
The bar erupted in laughter when I read it aloud, but Todd wasn’t too happy about that.
A man laughing | Source: Pexels
“Was this really necessary, Claire?” he muttered under his breath.
I tilted my head, smiling sweetly. “Absolutely.”
Once everyone was done, I started packing up the empty trays. That’s when the bartender stopped me.
“Ma’am, you’re a legend,” he said. “Drinks on the house if you ever come back. Without him, of course!”
I chuckled. “Thank you! I’ll definitely drop by sometime.”
The families didn’t stick around long after the food was gone. My dad gave me a proud nod as he left, while Todd’s mom told him he could’ve done better.
An older woman speaking to her son | Source: Midjourney
As we drove back home, Todd kept muttering about being “humiliated.” Once we were back, he protested even more.
“Claire, you humiliated me in front of everyone!” he said, throwing his hands in the air.
“No, Todd,” I shot back. “You humiliated yourself. And for the record, don’t expect another homemade meal anytime soon.”
He knew he couldn’t argue with me at that point. He just turned around and stormed off to the bedroom.
A doorknob | Source: Pexels
It’s been two weeks since that night, and I kid you not, Todd has changed. Well, mostly.
His unrealistic demands have dialed down, and he’s been unusually polite, almost as if he’s afraid I’ll pull another stunt like that. He hasn’t apologized outright for ditching me, but his sheepish behavior says enough.
I guess now he knows I’m not the kind of wife who’ll roll over and take his nonsense anymore. If nothing else, that’s a win in my book.
A woman standing by a window | Source: Pexels
What would you have done if you were in my shoes?
My MIL and Her Friends Devoured Our $1000 Wedding Cake the Evening Before Our Wedding, So I Decided to Teach Her a Lesson
I was heartbroken and furious when I discovered my mother-in-law Linda and her friends had devoured my $1000 wedding cake. I couldn’t believe they would intentionally ruin my special day, leaving only crumbs behind. But I was determined to teach them a lesson, and hence, my revenge plan began to take shape.
“No way I’m paying. It’s too expensive for something that tasted disgusting, JUST LIKE YOUR TASTE IN EVERYTHING,” Linda sneered, barely glancing at me.
I stood frozen in my living room doorway, grocery bags slipping from my hands.
I could feel the tears welling up as I took in the scene.
My beautiful wedding cake, the one I had saved for months to afford, was gone. Only crumbs and a half-eaten slice remained on the table while Linda and her friends lounged on the couch, looking pleased with themselves.
“Linda, how could you?” I choked out as I approached the empty box. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
“That cake was for my wedding, Linda! It cost a thousand dollars! How will I replace it so soon?” I asked angrily.
“Oh, please, Emily,” Linda rolled her eyes. “It was just a cake. And honestly, it wasn’t even that good!”
“But it was important to me!” I snapped, tears streaming down my face. “You had no right to touch it!”
“Get over it, Emily,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a cake, and it’s not like you have good taste in anything anyway.”
Linda and her friends exchanged amused glances before slowly getting up. “We’re leaving. But don’t expect any money from me,” she said smugly.
As they sauntered out, leaving a trail of crumbs and laughter behind them, I sank to the floor. My shoulders shook with silent sobs. The wedding was less than a day away, and now my beautiful cake was ruined.
Linda had never liked me because she wanted Alex to marry someone rich. From the moment we met, her disdain was evident. She constantly found reasons to belittle and undermine me, criticizing my choices, style, and personality at every opportunity.
But this… this was too much!
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
I couldn’t let this ruin everything. I had worked too hard and come too far to let Linda’s spiteful actions destroy my wedding. I wiped my tears and stood up.
First, I needed to call the bakery. Maybe, just maybe, they could make another cake in time. I grabbed my phone and dialed the number, praying they’d have good news.
But I was met with disappointment. No bakery was ready to take my order.
It was then that Sarah’s name popped into my head. I grabbed my phone and called her.
Sarah was not only my best friend and maid of honor but also an amazing baker. If anyone could help me, it was her.
“What? How dare she?” Sarah exclaimed as I told her everything. “Don’t worry, Emily, I’m coming over. We’ll fix this, okay?”
When Sarah walked into my kitchen that afternoon, she immediately gave me a hug. “We got this, Emily. Let’s make a cake even better than the original.”
We rolled up our sleeves and got to work. Sarah took charge, giving me instructions and keeping me focused. We mixed the batter, baked the layers, and whipped up the frosting. The kitchen filled with the comforting smells of vanilla and sugar, lifting my spirits.
“How are you holding up?” she asked as we started decorating the cake.
“I’m still upset, but I’m determined not to let Linda ruin this for me,” I replied, carefully smoothing the frosting. “Thank you so much for helping me.”
“Of course, Emily. That’s what friends are for,” Sarah said with a warm smile.
Despite the time crunch, we worked efficiently. We piped flowers, added delicate details, and made sure every inch of the cake was perfect.
As the night wore on, exhaustion set in, but we pushed through. Finally, as the first light of dawn crept through the windows, we stepped back to admire our work.
The cake was beautiful, filled with love and care. It wasn’t the same as the original, but it was even more special because Sarah and I had made it together.
“Emily, this cake is stunning,” Sarah said, wiping a smudge of frosting from her cheek. “Linda has no idea what she’s up against.”
I smiled, feeling a surge of confidence. “You’re right. I’m not done yet. I’m going to teach Linda a lesson she’ll never forget.”
And then came the moment we were waiting for.
At my wedding reception, the new cake Sarah and I had made was set up, and it looked stunning. Guests mingled, chatting happily, but I noticed Linda watching me with a disappointed look. She had expected a meltdown, not this.
Just before we cut the cake, I took a deep breath and stepped up to the microphone.
Alex stood beside me, and I felt a pang of sadness as I looked into his eyes. He loved his mother, and he had no idea what she had done to me, to us.
“Thank you all for being here today,” I began, my voice steady. “I have something to share before we celebrate with this beautiful cake…”
The room fell silent, all eyes on me. I signaled to the technician, who played the security footage I had hidden in my living room. The video showed Linda and her friends eating the original cake and making snide comments about me.
Gasps echoed around the room as everyone watched. Linda’s face turned red, and she looked around, desperate for an escape!
“I installed a camera because I knew Linda didn’t like me,” I explained calmly. “Sorry, Alex,” I added, turning to him. “I suspected she might do something to sabotage our wedding. I didn’t want to believe it, but I had to be prepared.”
The guests murmured in shock, glancing between Linda and the screen. Linda’s friends tried to slip away, but the attention was already on them.
“Despite this setback, we have a beautiful new cake thanks to my amazing friend Sarah,” I continued. “This day is about love and celebration, and I won’t let anything ruin it.”
But this wasn’t over. I had more planned, and Linda had no idea what was coming next.
Suddenly, I saw Alex making his way toward Linda, his face flushed with anger. He reached her just as she was trying to blend into the crowd.
“Mom, how could you?” Alex’s voice was loud enough to silence the nearby conversations. “You ate our wedding cake and tried to sabotage Emily’s big day? This isn’t a joke!”
Linda tried to laugh it off. “Oh, Alex, it was just a bit of fun. No harm done, right?”
“No harm done?” Alex’s voice rose. “You ruined a thousand-dollar cake and caused Emily so much stress. This isn’t funny. It’s cruel!”
The guests watched in stunned silence, their eyes shifting between Alex and Linda. I felt a pang of sympathy for Alex, having to confront his own mother like this. But it needed to be done.
Linda looked around, realizing she had no supporters in the room. She mumbled something that sounded like an apology, but no one was convinced.
Taking out my phone, I quickly texted a waiter.
With a smile, I watched the waiter read my message and nod in my direction.
Minutes later, the caterers wheeled out a beautifully decorated cake, and I saw Linda and her friends eyeing it suspiciously.
The caterers placed it on a separate table, away from the main dessert.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I announced, getting everyone’s attention once more. “We have a special treat for a select few guests.”
The caterers began serving slices of the Styrofoam cake to Linda and her friends. Each slice had a small, elegant note attached. As Linda picked up her piece, she read the note out loud: “For those with truly tasteless appetites.”
Her face turned beet red, and the room fell silent for a moment before erupting in laughter.
Linda’s friends tried to hide their embarrassment, but it was too late.
Even Linda’s husband, William, burst out laughing.
He tried to stifle it, but he couldn’t help himself. “Oh, Linda, you had this coming,” he chuckled, shaking his head.
“Emily, that was brilliant,” one guest said, shaking my hand.
“Serves her right,” another added, nodding in approval.
William approached me with a serious expression, though I could see a hint of a smile. “Emily, I want you to know that Linda will be held accountable for her actions. This will not go unpunished.”
“Thank you,” I replied, grateful for his support. “I appreciate it.”
As the guests continued to cheer and celebrate, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Alex standing there, a proud but sad smile on his face.
“You handled that perfectly,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “It had to be done, but I’m sorry it came to this. I wish things were different. Mom shouldn’t have gone to such an extent.”
I hugged him back, feeling a surge of love and gratitude. “Thank you, Alex. For always supporting me.”
The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, dancing, and joy. Despite everything, our wedding day had turned out better than I could have imagined, and I was glad that Linda’s antics couldn’t touch the happiness Alex and I shared.
What would you have done?
Leave a Reply