After a week away on a business trip, I came home to the strange and unsettling sight of my kids, Tommy and Alex, sleeping on the cold hallway floor. Heart pounding, I searched for answers, only to find my husband, Mark, missing and odd noises coming from the kids’ room. What I uncovered next left me furious—and ready for a fight.
A Gamer’s Paradise and a Father’s Neglect
I’d been away for a week and was itching to get home to my boys, 6 and 8. As I pulled into our driveway at midnight, the house was dark and quiet. I grabbed my suitcase and tiptoed inside, but my foot hit something soft. When I turned on the lights, I was horrified to see Tommy and Alex sprawled out on the floor, tangled up in blankets. They were fast asleep, but their faces were smudged with dirt and their hair was sticking up in all directions. “What the hell?” I whispered, my mind racing. Had there been a fire? A gas leak? Why weren’t they in their beds? I crept past them, afraid to wake them up. The living room was a disaster zone, littered with pizza boxes, soda cans, and what looked suspiciously like melted ice cream. But there was no sign of Mark.
My heart was doing the cha-cha in my chest as I made my way to our bedroom. Empty. The bed was still made, like it hadn’t been slept in all day. That’s when I heard a faint, muffled sound coming from the boys’ room. I pushed the door open, and… “What. The. Actual—” I bit my tongue, remembering the kids were just down the hall. There was Mark, headphones on, controller in hand, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers. But that wasn’t even the craziest part. The boys’ room had been transformed into some kind of gamer paradise. A massive TV took up one wall, there were LED lights everywhere, and a mini-fridge was in the corner. I stood there, mouth hanging open, as the rage built up inside me.
I stomped over and yanked the headphones off his head. “Mark! What the hell is going on?” He blinked at me, looking dazed. “Oh, hey babe. You’re home early.” I snatched the controller away. “An adventure? They’re not camping, Mark! They’re sleeping on our dirty hallway floor!” “Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill,” he said, trying to grab the controller back. I was seething. “Lighten up? LIGHTEN UP? Our children are sleeping on the floor like animals while you play video games in their room! What is wrong with you?” I took a deep breath, trying not to scream. “Go put the boys in their beds. Now.” He grumbled but got up, shuffling past me. I scooped up Alex, my heart breaking a little at how dirty his face was. As I tucked him into bed, I made a decision. If Mark wanted to act like a child, then that’s exactly how I’d treat him.
Turning the Tables on My Husband
The next morning, I put my plan into action. While Mark was in the shower, I snuck into the man cave he’d created and unplugged everything. When he came downstairs, I was waiting for him with a big smile. “Good morning, sweetie! I made you breakfast!” I set a plate in front of him. In the middle was a Mickey Mouse-shaped pancake with a smiley face made of fruit. His coffee was in a sippy cup. “What’s this?” he asked. “It’s your breakfast, silly! Now eat up, we have a big day ahead of us!” After breakfast, I unveiled my masterpiece: a giant, colorful chore chart plastered on the fridge. “Look what I made for you!” Mark’s eyes widened. “What the hell is that?” I scolded, “Language! It’s your very own chore chart! See? You can earn gold stars for cleaning your room, doing the dishes, and putting away your toys!”
For the next week, I stuck to my guns. Every night at 9, I’d shut off the Wi-Fi and unplug his gaming console. I even tucked him into bed with a glass of milk and read him “Goodnight Moon” in my most soothing voice. His meals were served on plastic plates with little dividers. When he complained, I’d say things like, “Use your words, honey. Big boys don’t whine.” The breaking point came about a week into my little experiment. Mark had just been sent to the timeout corner for throwing a fit about his two-hour screen time limit. “This is ridiculous!” he exploded. “I’m a grown man, for God’s sake!” I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you sure about that? Because grown men don’t make their children sleep on the floor so they can play video games all night.” He deflated a little. “Okay, okay, I get it! I’m sorry!”
I wasn’t going to let him off the hook just yet. “Oh, I accept your apology,” I said sweetly. “But I’ve already called your mom…” The color drained from his face. “You didn’t.” Right on cue, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to reveal Mark’s mother, looking every bit the disappointed parent. “Mark!” she bellowed, marching into the house. “Did you really make my sweeties sleep on the floor so you could play your little games?” Mark looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Mom, please. I’m 35 years old!” Linda ignored him, turning back to me. “Well, not to worry. I’ve cleared my schedule for the next week. I’ll whip this boy back into shape in no time!” As Linda bustled off to the kitchen, muttering about the state of the dishes, I caught Mark’s eye. He looked utterly defeated. “Sarah,” he said quietly. “I really am sorry. I was selfish and irresponsible. It won’t happen again.” I smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “I know you will. Now, why don’t you go help your mother with the dishes? If you do a good job, maybe we can have ice cream for dessert.” As Mark trudged off to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but feel a little smug. Lesson learned, I hoped.