I believed I was being a supportive partner by organizing a celebratory dinner for my husband Todd’s 35th birthday. Just as the guests were about to arrive, he informed me that he was skipping the party to catch the game at a bar. What occurred afterward? Let’s just say, I ended up on top.
One might expect that after six years of marriage, a person would develop some sense of gratitude, yet that is not the case with Todd. Each year, I would invest my emotions and efforts into celebrating his birthday, only to have him overlook it completely.
This year, however, his sense of entitlement reached unprecedented heights.
Six years. Todd and I have been married for that long.
Our relationship has its good moments, that’s for sure. Todd has a way of being quite charming at times, and we’ve shared some truly wonderful moments together. However, there’s one aspect of him that completely frustrates me.
His sense of entitlement.
Consider last Thanksgiving, for instance. Todd came up with a fantastic idea to organize a dinner for our families. He shared the news at breakfast one morning, beaming as if he had just cracked the code to world hunger.
“Claire,” he said, “I believe we ought to host Thanksgiving this year.”
“Alright,” I responded. That sounds lovely. How are we allocating the responsibilities?
He dismissed me as if I had just requested him to perform a headstand.
“Oh, you excel at that kind of thing,” he remarked. “I will take care of… I’m not sure, maybe drinks or something like that. Just ensure it leaves a lasting impression, okay?
I really should have seen it coming, yet I chose to go along with it anyway.
For two weeks, I organized and prepared while Todd engaged in fantasy football and occasionally inquired, “Do you need me to grab anything?”
On the big day, I prepared the turkey, created delicious sides, and even baked two pies.
And Todd? He brought the cooler of beer into the living room. That’s all there is to it.
After dinner, while everyone praised the food and decor, Todd chose to claim credit for it all.
“I’m really happy to hear that you all enjoy it,” he said. “I hoped for something truly memorable this year.”
I believed I had misunderstood him.
“Oh, is that so?” I inquired. Which part were you hoping to make special? Which is more important, the green bean casserole or the centerpiece?
He completely overlooked me, naturally.
That pretty much sums up Todd. He seeks recognition without putting in any effort.
Last year on his birthday was quite memorable.
After weeks of effort, I crafted a personalized photo album, brimming with images from our adventures and cherished moments shared. I was eager to witness his response as he tore off the wrapping.
Once he finished flipping through the pages, he simply remarked, “Oh.” So, where’s the true treasure?
It wasn’t merely his words that caused pain. The boldness was astonishing.
I had married a man who once crafted beautiful poetry for me, yet now he seemed unable to value a sincere gesture. That moment broke something within me.
It dawned on me that he was no longer the man I had once fallen for.
And then his 35th birthday arrived. The last breaking point.
During dinner, Todd mentioned his plans in a relaxed manner.
“Claire, I’m hoping for a grand, proper birthday dinner this year,” he expressed. “Let’s gather the family, my friends, and everyone else.”
I lifted an eyebrow in curiosity. “Are you saying you want me to take care of the planning?”
“Sure,” he replied. You’re really skilled at this. Just keep it respectable, okay? <text”I really hope I don’t end up feeling humiliated in front of all those people.”
“Decent?” I echoed.
Sure, just keep it in moderation. Maintain elegance.
Do you notice the sense of entitlement present? Look at how he believes he deserves a birthday celebration, despite the way his words hurt me last time.
To be honest, I was hesitant to agree, but I chose to give him another opportunity. It was his birthday, and I aimed to make it special, despite my feelings about whether he deserved it.
Over the next two weeks, I dedicated myself to organizing Todd’s “big, proper birthday dinner.” If he desired elegance, I would provide him with elegance.
I created a remarkable menu featuring spinach-stuffed chicken, rosemary potatoes, a charcuterie board with cheeses I couldn’t pronounce, and a three-layer chocolate cake that would be the highlight of the meal.
Each evening after my job, I would return home, pull my hair back, and dive into cleaning, organizing, and preparing. I even borrowed some extra chairs and a folding table from our neighbor, Janice, to ensure that everyone would have a place to sit.
What did Todd contribute? Completely nothing.
“I’m overwhelmed at work,” he said one evening, tossing aside his shoes and sinking onto the couch. “But you can do this, my love.” You excel at these tasks.
Skilled in these areas? I was utterly exhausted to the point of tears.
But rather than losing my cool, I smiled and replied, “Yeah, I’ve got this.”
The long-awaited day of the party had finally come.
I rose with the dawn, resolute in my quest for perfection.
The house was immaculate. The table was beautifully arranged with coordinated linens and delicate name cards that I had penned by hand. The appetizers were perfectly chilled, the main courses were gently simmering, and the cake was adorned with exquisite edible gold flakes.
Indeed, I took it to that extent.
Todd wandered into the kitchen around noon, casually scrolling through his phone as he often did. He hardly took a look at the arrangement I had prepared.
“Looks good,” he said quietly while reaching into the fridge for a soda.
“Does it look good?” I said it again, partly in jest but also with a glimmer of hope that he would see the effort I had made.
“Yeah,” he replied, closing the fridge door. Then, as if it were nothing significant, he casually remarked, “But hey, uh, don’t worry about finishing all this.”
“Could you clarify what you mean?”
I’m going to the bar with the guys to catch the game instead. Cancel all plans. Let everyone know that something has come up.
“Are you really skipping your own birthday dinner?” I inquired. “Todd, I’ve been working on this for weeks!”
“It’s nothing to worry about, Claire,” he dismissed it casually. “Just reach out to everyone and let them know we’re occupied or something.” They will comprehend.
“Do you think they’ll get it?” My voice elevated. “Todd, folks are already heading over!” “You asked me to make this decent, and now you’re just walking away?”
“I really don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of the guys,” he said, bringing the conversation to a close.
He picked up his jacket and stepped out the door.
“This isn’t something you can go through with, Todd!” I called out, but he was already gone.
My heart felt utterly shattered. I had invested my heart, soul, and savings into this dinner, and he simply walked out as if it meant nothing.
Are we really canceling everything? After all the effort I had put in?
Yet above all else, I experienced a deep sense of humiliation.
How could he do this to me? How could he dismiss all my efforts as if they were insignificant?
I gazed at the table as the candles danced with a teasing light.
Is this all you believe you are worth, Claire? I pondered. Is this really how you’re going to allow Todd to treat you? Negative. This isn’t possible.
At that moment, I resolved not to cancel the dinner. I refuse to let him make me feel bad again.
If Todd chose to behave like a spoiled brat, I’d allow it, but not before demonstrating to him what true embarrassment really feels like. He was completely unaware of the trouble he was inviting.
I picked up my phone and shot a group message to all the guests:
The celebration continues! Adjustments have been made. Join us at the bar on the main street close to our home. Come hungry!
After that, I began my tasks.
I gathered all the food and loaded it into the car. I headed directly to the bar Todd had talked about.
Upon my arrival, the atmosphere was already alive with a cacophony of sounds. I scanned the room and noticed Todd at a table with his friends, facing away from the entrance. He had no awareness of my presence at all.
Excuse me, ma’am? How may I assist you? The bartender’s eyes widened in surprise as he noticed the trays of food I was carrying.
I gave him my most charming smile. “Oh, I’m simply here to enjoy a meal with those who will truly value it.”
I chose a table close to the bar, where I could see Todd’s group clearly, and started to unpack one dish after another. The enticing scent of the food swiftly drew in everyone’s focus. Nearby patrons leaned in, eager to catch a glimpse of the unfolding scene.
“What’s going on here?” one man inquired, pointing at the spread I was arranging.
I elevated my voice slightly to ensure it reached across the room. “Oh, this was meant to be a special dinner for my husband’s birthday.” He chose to leave me behind and come here, so I figured, why should all this food go to waste?
The atmosphere in the room buzzed with whispers and chuckles, and some attendees even broke into applause. At that moment, Todd finally turned around and noticed me.
He quickly marched over as his friends whispered to one another.
Claire! What on earth are you doing? He hissed, his gaze flickering anxiously between me and the swelling crowd.
I didn’t even glance in his direction.
I turned my attention to the closest group of patrons. Do you enjoy ham? Feel free to help yourselves! Cake is on the way as well.”
Just as Todd began to voice another complaint, the front door swung open, and in came his parents, my parents, his sister, and our cousins.
They glanced our way, then shifted their gaze to the food, and finally took in the sight of everyone enjoying what was meant to be a formal dinner.
Todd’s mom, with her characteristic straightforwardness, approached him directly. “Hey, Todd, what’s happening?” Claire suggested we gather here for your birthday dinner, but what’s with the food being served in a bar?
Todd appeared as if he wished he could sink into the ground.
“Well, it’s not simple, Mom,” he said quietly.
“I would be delighted to elaborate!” I stepped in. Todd chose to prioritize watching the game with his friends over the dinner he insisted I organize. So, I delivered the dinner to him!
His father shook his head. “That’s so disrespectful,” he muttered.
In the meantime, my mom picked up a plate and remarked, “The food smells incredible.” It’s time to eat!
Before long, our families came together with the other guests and eagerly began to enjoy the meal I had put so much effort into preparing.
What about Todd’s friends? They continued to laugh at his expense, assuring him that this day would never be forgotten.
When I finally presented the cake, the bar had transformed into a lively celebration. Atop the cake, I had inscribed in bold frosting letters:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUSBAND!
The bar burst into laughter as I read it aloud, but Todd didn’t seem too pleased with that.
“Did we really need to do this, Claire?” he whispered softly.
I tilted my head, a gentle smile gracing my lips. “Definitely.”
After everyone finished, I began to gather the empty trays. At that moment, the bartender intervened.
“Ma’am, you truly are a legend,” he remarked. Complimentary drinks await your return. Of course, not without him!
I let out a soft laugh. Thank you very much! I’ll make sure to stop by at some point.
The families departed quickly once the food had been consumed. My dad gave me a proud nod as he departed, while Todd’s mom remarked that he could have performed better.
As we drove back home, Todd kept grumbling about feeling “humiliated.” Upon our return, his objections grew even louder.
“Claire, you embarrassed me in front of everyone!” he exclaimed, gesturing dramatically.
“Absolutely not, Todd,” I retorted. You brought shame upon yourself. Just so we’re clear, don’t count on another homemade meal in the near future.
He realized that there was no point in trying to argue with me at that moment. He abruptly turned and marched off to the bedroom.
It’s been two weeks since that night, and I swear, Todd is a different person now. Indeed, for the most part.
His unreasonable requests have lessened, and he’s been surprisingly courteous, as if he’s worried I’ll pull another trick like that. He hasn’t directly apologized for abandoning me, but his awkward demeanor speaks volumes.
It seems he’s finally realized that I’m not the type of wife who will just accept his nonsense any longer. At the very least, that’s a victory in my opinion.
If you were in my position, what actions would you have taken?
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