I Bet My Wife That I Could Live Her Life for a Week – My Story

After a fight with my wife, Stephanie, I made a bet that I could easily exchange places with her and do everything better. The reality… was very different.

After a long day at work, I was looking forward to a home-cooked meal and a nice drink in front of the television. So, I was shocked when my wife had not cooked anything, and the house smelled like diapers.

"What do you do all day?" I snapped at her after seeing all the dishes piled on the sink and the clean laundry still in the basket.

"Excuse me? I told you that Marky has colic. I've been dealing with a crying baby all day," she responded, swinging our crying newborn. She looked disheveled and dirty – not at all the put-together woman I had married.

"I can do it. He just needs to feel better," I said tiredly, and she shrugged and left.

"I don't believe it's been that bad that you haven't been able to cook or clean or, hell, take a shower," I responded.

Her mouth dropped, and she was speechless for a few seconds. "If you want a cook and maid, you have to hire them," she said.

"You are the stay-at-home wife. It's your job!" I shouted, getting angrier and angrier.

"Excuse me? We have a sick newborn! What part of that can't you understand? Marky needs all my attention. I haven't had a moment to myself for the past three days. You don't even get up at night to help!"

"How could I help? I don't have milk!" I said, shrugging.

We fought for a while longer until she seemed to give up. "Put yourself in my shoes! You wouldn't even survive one day handling your son!" Stephanie retorted, breathless.

"I bet you anything that I can live your life easily. Nothing is harder than my work!"

"Really? Let's do it, then. Let's trade places!"

"Yeah. I'm going to take a week off, and you can leave in the mornings and come back at night. You'll see how easy I can do it!"

Stephanie lifted her head and pursed her lips. "Ok. That sounds awesome. But you know that also means at night, right?"

"As long as I have milk in bottles, I can do that too!"

"Deal!"

***

I called into work and took a week off, and Stephanie left bright early to do whatever she wanted. Marky was brilliant all morning. He slept for hours, so I had time to clean the house, do the laundry, change sheets, and do many other chores.

I fed him when he woke up, changed his diapers, bathed him, and we played. It was one of the best days I had ever had since becoming a dad. So, I was actually grateful for this bet, and I would get to rub my wife's face in my success tonight.

Marky fell asleep around 3 p.m., and I cooked a great dinner. Stephanie returned right around the time I usually got home from work.

"See? It was easy," I said, smiling proudly.

"One day was easy. Let's see how long it lasts," Stephanie said. "But this is delicious, thank you."

I grinned and ate my dinner with her, confident that I would surely win this bet. I was wrong.

The second day was a disaster. Marky cried the entire night, and as promised, I tended to him. He slept for maybe two hours and wailed the rest of the time. By morning, I was tripping from exhaustion.

"Do you want to concede now? Change back?" Stephanie asked, offering me an out. But grabbing that opportunity meant losing the bet, so I shook my head.

"I can do it. He just needs to feel better," I said tiredly, and she shrugged and left.

The day was terrible, but I still did as much as I could. Granted, I cleaned minimally and made a quick spaghetti dinner with store-bought sauce. It was good, but it was not the same, and my wife could tell I was dead on my feet.

I went to sleep, and Marky woke up again. The nightmare repeated itself. Stephanie offered me an out once again, but I declined stubbornly. I could barely make sandwiches that day for dinner and cleaned the dishes haphazardly.

However, on the fourth day, I gave up.

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea you had been dealing with all of this. I can't even imagine. Please, help me with him. And I promise I will never ever complain about anything," I cried to Stephanie, and she held me.

"Go to sleep. I will deal with Marky," she said, kissing my cheek.

Stephanie and I divided all the chores and baby duties for the next few days. We also talked deeply about our situation. She told me she understood that my work was hard and that it was alright to want dinner when I got home, but I had to be more understanding when Marky's colic acted up.

She also asked for help on the most challenging days, and I finally agreed to hire a cleaner once a week, and we started planning dinners that wouldn't take a lot of work. She was happier that way, and I was too.

However, many men out there act the way I did, and few are willing to trade places to experience how hard it is to be a stay-at-home parent. Also, most homemakers are not even allowed to complain.

Why is that? What were we raised to believe that women have to handle everything and we can relax? Why don't we appreciate our spouses?

Tell us what you think, and share this story with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who was kicked out of her house at 18, but her mother demanded to live with her later.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone's life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.