At seven months pregnant and completely exhausted, I asked my husband if I could start maternity leave early. Instead of supporting me, he mansplained pregnancy and called me lazy—saying women work through pregnancy all the time and he wouldn’t “pick up the slack.” I didn’t argue. I smiled… and planned my revenge. For a week, I became Superwoman—doing all the chores, cooking elaborate meals, and working full-time. Doug praised my “new energy,”
completely clueless. Then came Friday. I arranged a surprise: a full-day fatherhood simulation, complete with a parenting coach and my friend’s screaming twins. While I “went to the doctor,” Doug got ambushed by diapers, spit-up, and chaos. By the time I got home,
he looked traumatized. That night, I gave him a scrapbook of all the little things I do daily. The guilt hit hard. He apologized, truly seeing me for the first time. Then came the twist—Doug called his mom to apologize for comparing me to her…
only to find out she didn’t work until delivery like he thought. She’d stopped months before. Turns out, even his version of strength was a myth. Now? He’s attentive, supportive, and says thank you a lot. I didn’t just teach him a lesson—I gave him a reality check wrapped in diapers, dinner, and a whole lot of love.
