I was floored when my husband, Jeff, brought in a maid to “teach” me how to cook and clean like the ideal wife. Rather than push back, I played along. What Jeff didnt see coming was the lesson I had in store for him — one that would turn his perfect plan topsy-turvy.
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Im Leighton, 32, juggling a full-time job, a chaotic household, and a 34-year-old husband whos lately become an expert on what a “perfect wife” should be.
A man sitting in his living room | Source: Midjourney
Jeff and I both work demanding jobs: hes in finance, constantly stressed about quarterly reports, while Im in marketing, which means my brain is fried by the time I get home. Youd think wed cut each other some slack, but lately, Jeffs expectations have been through the roof.
It all started after that infamous dinner at his boss Toms place. Toms wife, Susan, greeted us with this warm smile, wearing a perfectly pressed dress that probably cost more than my rent in college. Her house? Spotless. Not a speck of dust, not a misplaced throw pillow.
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An elegant blonde woman sitting at the dinner table | Source: Pexels
And dont get me started on the five-course meal she whipped up as if shed been born holding a spatula. Jeff couldnt stop gawking.
“You see how Susan keeps everything in order? Dinners ready the minute Tom gets home,” Jeff had said on the drive back, his voice dripping with admiration. “You could take a few pointers.”
I bit my tongue, staring out the window to avoid rolling my eyes but Tom wasnt done yet. “Why dont you try a little harder? I mean, how difficult can it be to keep things clean when you get home before me?”
A sad woman looking out the car window | Source: Midjourney
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The comparisons didnt stop. Every day was a new critique. “Susan keeps her house spotless. Susan has time to make fresh pasta from scratch. Susan always looks put together.”
Hed say this while tossing his dirty clothes two feet from the laundry basket or leaving his dishes right where he finished eating.
One evening, he came home and immediately started inspecting the house like some kind of drill sergeant. He ran his finger along the windowsill and frowned. “You missed a spot. Are you even trying?”
A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
I glanced up from my laptop, barely containing my frustration. “Seriously, Jeff?”
He shrugged. “Im just saying, maybe you could put in a little more effort. Its not like you dont have time.”
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That was his new favorite line. Not like you dont have time. As if my workday and commute werent as draining as his. But the final straw came one Friday night.
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I walked in, dreaming of a hot shower and some rest, but instead, I found a young woman in our kitchen. She was holding a mop and wearing an apron, her eyes darting nervously around like shed accidentally wandered into the wrong house.
Jeff stood beside her, arms crossed, with a self-satisfied grin. “Leighton, meet Marianne. Shes here to teach you how to clean and cook properly.”
I blinked, trying to process what I was hearing. “Im sorry… teach me?”
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A man with a self-satisfied grin on his face | Source: Midjourney
Jeff sighed like he was talking to a stubborn child. “Yeah, honey. Ive tried being patient, but clearly, youre not getting it. Susan suggested I get someone to help you get up to speed. So, here we are.”
Marianne glanced at me, then at Jeff, and back at me. “I usually just… you know, clean houses,” she said softly, almost apologetic. “He offered me double if Id show you how.”
I turned to Jeff, barely keeping my voice steady. “So, youre paying her to teach me to clean and cook?”
A shocked and hurt woman | Source: Midjourney
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He nodded, still oblivious. “Yeah. This way, you can get the hang of it properly. Marianne, dont hold back.”
I wanted to scream. This man, who never lifted a finger, had the audacity to hire someone to teach me how to clean? I could see Mariannes discomfort too, like she was dragged into some weird reality TV show.
I forced a smile, seething inside. “Im sure Ive got a lot to learn, Jeff. Thanks for looking out for me.”
A young woman wearing an apron and holding a mop looks confused while standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
Jeff left, pleased with himself, while Marianne looked like she was ready to bolt. I leaned in, lowering my voice. “Listen, I dont need lessons. But I do have a little idea that could use some help. Are you game?”
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Mariannes face lit up, intrigued. “What do you have in mind?”
I smiled, already plotting. “Lets just say Jeffs about to learn a lesson of his own.”
A woman smiling cleverly | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few weeks, I gave Jeff exactly what hed been asking for: the perfect housewife. Every day, I woke up early, made his breakfast, cleaned the house until it sparkled, and cooked elaborate dinners that looked straight out of a cooking show.
I even dressed up every evening, greeting him at the door with a smile that didnt quite reach my eyes.
A woman forcing a smile | Source: Midjourney
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But I was cold as ice. I didnt nag or complain, but I also didnt engage. No conversations about my day, no affectionate touches, not even a casual laugh. I became the picture of domestic perfection, but I was just going through the motions. It didnt take long for Jeff to notice something was off.
“Hey, babe,” he said one evening, hovering at the kitchen door while I prepared a three-course meal. “Youve been quiet lately. Is everything okay?”
I barely looked up, keeping my tone polite but distant. “Im fine, Jeff. Just busy with the house, like you wanted.”
A closeup of a woman tossing spaghetti in a pan | Source: Pexels
His brow furrowed. “You dont have to be… this dedicated. I mean, its great, but its like youre here, but youre not.”
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I shrugged, setting the table with precision. “Im just focusing on what you asked me to do, Jeff.”
He nodded, but I could tell he was confused. This was what he wanted, wasnt it? A perfect house, perfect meals, perfect wife. But I wasnt giving him the satisfaction of my usual warmth, and it was starting to bother him.
A thoughtful and worried man | Source: Midjourney
As the days went on, I kept up my act. Every task was done flawlessly, but our relationship? It was as cold and mechanical as a well-rehearsed performance. I knew Jeff could feel the distance between us, but he didnt know how to fix it. And I wasnt going to make it easy for him.
Then came the day Id been planning for weeks. After a perfectly silent dinner, I cleared the plates and turned to him with a cheerful smile. “Jeff, we need to talk.”
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He glanced up, a nervous smile twitching on his lips. “Whats up?”
A man looking up at someone | Source: Midjourney
I sat across from him, placing a neatly folded piece of paper on the table. “Ive been thinking a lot about this whole perfect housewife thing. Marianne really opened my eyes to how much work it takes to run a household like this. Its a full-time job, honestly.”
Jeff frowned, not sure where I was going. “Uh, okay?”
“So, Ive decided,” I continued brightly. “Im going to quit my job and focus on this full-time.”
His jaw dropped. “Youre quitting your job?”
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
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I nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! You wanted the house to be spotless, meals cooked from scratch, and everything just right. To do that, I need to dedicate all my time to it. But heres the catch — I cant do it for free.”
He blinked, baffled. “Wait, what do you mean cant do it for free?”
I slid the paper toward him. It was a contract Id typed up, outlining my new terms.
A black pen placed on an important document | Source: Pexels
“If Im giving up my career, I should be compensated. Susan doesnt work, and Tom supports her. So, Ill need you to pay me a salary. This is what I think is fair.”
He stared at me, his face turning from confused to outraged. “You want me to pay you? Leighton, this is absurd!”
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A confused and outraged man | Source: Midjourney
I kept my tone sweet, but my words were laced with ice. “Oh, but it makes perfect sense. You wanted me to be a perfect wife, and Ive been delivering. But perfection isnt free, Jeff. If you expect me to maintain the household to your standards, I deserve compensation. And if youre not willing to pay, thats fine. Ill just stop doing it.”
He gaped at me, the color draining from his face. “I never asked you to quit your job! I never wanted this.”
An angry man screaming | Source: Midjourney
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I leaned back, arms crossed, savoring every second. “Oh, but you did, Jeff. You wanted a house that looked like Susans, meals like hers, and a wife who dedicated herself entirely to domestic duties. Im just doing exactly what you asked for. But I have my standards too, and if you want this level of dedication, it comes at a price.”
There was a long, tense silence. Jeff held the contract, his eyes fixated on the exorbitant salary. I could see the gears turning as he realized hed dug himself into a hole he couldnt easily climb out of.
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A shocked man looking at a document | Source: Midjourney
Finally, he sputtered, “This isnt what I meant! I work hard all day. I dont have time to do everything around here!”
I stood up, keeping my voice calm but firm. “Exactly. And now you know what it feels like. If youre not willing to pay me, maybe its time you start contributing more around the house. Or you could always hire Marianne full-time. Shes great, after all.”
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I left him sitting there, flustered and speechless.
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
From that day on, Jeffs attitude changed. He never agreed to pay me, of course, but he also stopped complaining. And suddenly, chores were no longer just my responsibility.
Jeff started picking up after himself, doing the laundry, and even cooking dinner a few nights a week. He never brought up Susan again, and I never saw him running a finger along the shelves in search of dust.
A closeup of a man preparing food in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
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Turns out, when you give someone exactly what they think they want, they realize pretty quickly that the fantasy isnt nearly as sweet as the reality. Jeff learned that the hard way, and I got the one thing Id wanted all along: respect.
In the end, Jeff didnt need a perfect wife; he needed a partner. And if it took hiring a maid and drawing up a fake contract to get there. Well, that was a lesson worth teaching.
What do you think?
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Enjoyed this story? Heres another one that might interest you: I was stunned when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of blowing up, I played along. Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his newfound approach to marriage.
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This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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