When Vienna’s husband, Adam, refused to help get the kids ready for school and instead had an hour-long bath, she lost her cool. Determined to teach him a severe lesson about collaboration and support, she devised a strategy that would forever alter their lives. Hello everyone!! You will not believe what occurred last week. My spouse, Adam, has a ludicrous habit of having an hour-long bath every morning. I mean, who does that?
I’ve told him a million times that it’s too much, but he says it’s his “sacred escape.” Normally, I’d roll my eyes and dismiss it, but last week? Oh yeah, that was different. I had an extremely critical job interview and was running late. I needed Adam to assist me get the kids ready for school. Do you know what he did? He looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Sweetie, my bath is my precious escape from the kids and, let’s be honest, from YOU!
You can handle things for an hour, right? And with that, he disappeared into the restroom, humming as if he didn’t care about anything. That was it. I was finished with his crap. Especially on such a beautiful day.I was left juggling the kids, looking for their shoes, preparing breakfast, and maintaining my calm all at once. I felt my frustration rising, but I kept it together.
“Do you want to play games, Adam?” Let’s play,” I murmured to myself, a strategy already formulating in my head. By the time I got the kids to school, I was a frenzied wreck. My hair was a mess, my top had a cereal stain, and I was barely keeping it together. I hurried to my interview, hoping I wouldn’t be too late. Of course I was. They scarcely glanced at me before turning away. All I could think about was Adam’s smug expression and his ridiculous bath. That was the final straw.
Back at home, I couldn’t get Adam’s vicious words out of my head. “You can handle things for an hour, can’t you?” played in my thoughts like an unpleasant jingle.That night, while I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I planned the ideal strategy. I knew his regimen down to the smallest detail: candles, favorite bath oils, and a relaxing song. Every morning, he set everything up like a spa experience.
The next morning, I got up early, eager to put my plan into action. First, I replaced his favorite bath oils with baby oil. That substance is a nuisance to wash off, leaving him slippery and unhappy. Then I changed his relaxing playlist with the children’s favorite tunes. Think “I Like To Move It” on repeat at high volume. Finally, I shut off the hot water valve just enough to give him lukewarm water at best.
He offered me a wink as he went to the bathroom. “Enjoy your hour, honey,” I said under my breath as he closed the door behind him.The following few minutes were pure gold. I overheard him fumbling around and swearing under his breath as he applied the baby oil. Then the shrill “I Like To Move It” began playing, and I could almost see his eye twitching with displeasure.
The highlight was his yelp as the lukewarm water struck him.I leaned against the doorframe and smirked. Adam appeared, grumpy and drenched. “What the hell happened in there?” he insisted. I stared him directly in the eyes. “Just as you expect your relaxation time to be respected, I expect your assistance when I require it. Especially on significant occasions like yesterday.
He glared but didn’t say anything. I knew it was not over. However, nothing changed. Adam continued to take his long baths, just more cautiously. It’s time to step up my game.”Okay, honey. “If subtlety doesn’t work, we’ll go big,” I said to myself. The following week, I became even more imaginative. I wasn’t going to let this go. Adam was going to learn to appreciate what I do each morning.
I purchased several bath bombs that appeared regular but were loaded with glitter. It was an idea I came across online, and it sounded great. That morning, the moment he dropped one into the tub, it exploded in a cloud of glittering particles. The sound of his surprise and frustration was delightful to my ears. He came out of the restroom looking like a disco ball, mumbling curses under his breath.
“Why the hell is there glitter everywhere?” he grumbled, attempting to brush away the sparkles that clung to his damp skin. I couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, just thought you could use some extra sparkle in your life, sweetie!”The cleanup took a long time, and he cleaned the tub for hours trying to remove the glitter. Still, he continued to take his baths, albeit with caution.
Adam double-checked the bath bombs before each use, yet he continued with his ritual. I shook my head, astounded by his intransigence. “Okay, do you want to keep this up? “I’ll go even further,” I thought, planning my next move. One night, I decided to include the children in the fun. We planned an intricate hoax utilizing their toys. I put some rubber ducks and toy boats in the tub and filled it with cold water.
Then I set up a recording of a pirate battle to play on his speaker. The stage was set for a hectic morning. The next morning, Adam entered the restroom, blissfully oblivious of what awaited him.When he dipped his foot into the frigid water, he yelped. The abrupt noises of cannon fire and pirate screams caused him to leap, slipping onto a toy boat and falling into the bathtub.
He emerged, drenched and furious. “What the hell is going on in this house?” he asked, his eyes wide with confusion. I stood there with arms folded. “If you can’t appreciate my need for help, I can’t appreciate your need for a peaceful bath,” I stated calmly, attempting to hide my grin. He rushed away, pouring water everywhere, but I could see the wheels churning in his head. He was finally starting to get it. The children were chuckling in the background, adding to the commotion.
Despite all, Adam hadn’t fully learnt his lesson. I sighed, recognizing I needed to step up my game again. So I recruited the youngsters for the ultimate prank. We contrived a phony emergency. Just as he was ready to go to the restroom, I said, “The kids are locked in the garage!”Panicked, Adam dashed out, only to discover the youngsters laughing. Meanwhile, I slipped into the bathroom and installed a motion sensor that sounded an audible alert whenever someone entered the bathtub.
Adam returned, seething, and attempted to take his bath. When he walked in, the loud sound of an air horn filled the room. He jumped out, soaking wet and furious.I was ready with a sneer and an appropriate response. “Welcome to my world, Adam.” “This isn’t just about the bath,” I explained. “It’s about collaboration. We’re in this together, and I need you to be there for me as much as you need to rest.
Remember the concept of balance?He moaned, disheartened but now understanding. He made a concerted effort to assist the children and be more present starting that day. He even reduced his bath time to thirty minutes and began assisting with the morning ritual before going into his well-deserved soak.But I wasn’t finished yet. I had one last prank up my sleeve to make sure the lesson stuck. I got a little too excited about this one, and it became the buzz of the neighborhood for weeks.
“Oh, Adam, you’re in for a treat,” I thought, laughing to myself. One evening, when he was taking a bath, I crept into the bathroom and substituted his regular shampoo with hair dye. Not just any dye, but a vibrant, neon pink color. I made cautious to buy something that would wash away quickly, but the metamorphosis was still surprising.
Adam didn’t notice at first and continued with his routine. But when he looked in the mirror, his scream carried down the street. The kids and I couldn’t stop laughing as he stood there, his hair shining like a highlighter. “VIENNA! “What the hell did you do to my hair?” he shouted, agitated and flushed.It took a few days and several washes to get his hair back to normal, but by that point, he’d given up on his hour-long baths.
He began taking fast showers instead, spending more time with his family and less time alone in the bathroom. And there, my friends, is how I got the Nobel Prize for Chore Distribution! It turns out that a sprinkle of glitter, a carefully positioned water balloon, and a terrible bright pink hair dye incident were all that was required to get my husband on board with cooperation!
