Last Sunday, my husband returned from his mother’s house with a chilling announcement.
“They DECIDED,” he proclaimed, as if delivering royal news, “that you should quit your job and become my mom’s maid instead.”
I blinked, convinced I had misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”
His arms crossed over his chest. “Your job takes up too much time. A woman’s value lies in family. Plus, you’re always working late, traveling, dressing up… we’re starting to wonder if you’re cheating on me.”
The words struck me like a slap.
Before I could process this, he continued, “So instead, you can…
