My Husband Made Me Host His Birthday Party with My Arm Broken – So I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget

Heads turned. To Jason. To me.

Back to Jason.

Linda went pale.

Jason stormed toward me, waving the papers.

“You can’t do this to me!” he yelled. “Not today! At my birthday?”

I stood up slowly.

“This is the only way you were ever going to listen,” I said.

“You’re humiliating me in front of everyone!” he shouted.

“We could’ve talked like adults!”

I laughed once, sharp.

“I tried to talk,” I said. “About the chores. About doing everything.

About how you treat me. You rolled your eyes. You called me lazy.

Dramatic.”

I lifted my cast a little.

“I begged you to shovel. You didn’t. I fell.

I broke my arm. I came home from the ER and you told me ‘IT’S YOUR DUTY’ and worried about your reputation.”

I looked around the room.

“So, just so we’re clear,” I said, “I didn’t ruin your birthday. You did.”

One of his coworkers looked at him like he was seeing him for the first time.

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