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

He looked up, saw the cast, and frowned.

“Whoa,” he said. “Damn.”

I waited for “Are you okay?”

It didn’t come.

Instead, he shrugged.

“Well, that’s really unfortunate timing.”

I stared at him. “Unfortunate timing?”

He gestured around. “My birthday?

This weekend? Twenty people? I told everyone you were making that roast again.

The house is a mess. How are we supposed to do this now?”

I blinked. “Jason, I can’t cook.

I can’t clean. I can barely get my shirt on. I broke my arm on our porch.

Because you didn’t shovel.”

He rolled his eyes. “You should’ve been more careful. You always rush.”

He leaned back like this was a normal conversation.

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