My Mother Found Out My Wife Had Been Treating Me like a Housekeeper Since I Work from Home and Made Her Regret It
I never thought working from home would turn me into my wife’s full-time servant. For three years, I juggled a demanding career, childcare, and household chores—until my mom stepped in, and everything changed in ways I never expected.
“I never imagined working from home would turn me into Ruby’s full-time servant,” I muttered, scrubbing dishes while answering emails.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When we got married, everything seemed equally split between us. But after the twins and her job took center stage, the balance shifted entirely.
When Ruby gave birth to our twin boys three years ago, she stayed home for two months before returning to work, eager to advance her career. It made sense at the time—her job was demanding, and since I had the flexibility of working from home, I naturally took on most of the childcare.
“I’ve got this,” I told myself. “It’s only temporary. Ruby will step in more once things settle down.”
But things never settled down.
Those early months turned into an endless cycle of changing diapers, feeding the boys, cleaning messes, and running errands. Ruby would come home exhausted, drop her bag at the door, and collapse on the couch.
“I’m beat. Can you handle dinner?” she’d sigh.
“Sure,” I’d say, juggling the kids while cooking. I didn’t mind it at first—she was exhausted from work, and I was already home. But as time passed, it became clear this wasn’t a temporary situation. Ruby came to expect me to handle everything.
It wasn’t just childcare anymore—I had become the cook, the cleaner, the one responsible for every errand.
“Can you pick up my dry cleaning?” she’d ask as she headed out the door. “Did you start the laundry?” she’d call from work.
Even after the boys started kindergarten, I thought things would finally get easier. But Ruby still treated me like the default caregiver and housekeeper, ignoring the fact that I also worked full-time.
One evening, I decided enough was enough.
“Ruby,” I said, sitting next to her on the couch after putting the boys to bed. “We need to figure out a better way to divide the chores. I’m working too, and I can’t do it all on my own.”
She looked up from her phone, frowning slightly. “But you’re home all day,” she said. “You have time to do these things.”
I could feel frustration bubbling up inside me. “I’m home, but I’m working,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “I need help.”
Ruby sighed, rubbing her temples. “I’m exhausted when I get home. My job drains me. Can’t you just handle it for now?”
I bit my tongue and let it go. But inside, I was furious. How could she not see that I was drowning too? The housework, the kids, my job—it was all piling up, and I was suffocating under the weight of it. To top it off, I hadn’t seen my friends in months. My life was shrinking, and Ruby didn’t seem to notice.
The breaking point came one afternoon when my mom unexpectedly dropped by with a homemade lasagna. She never visited during the week, so her arrival caught me off guard. She found me in the middle of cooking dinner, folding laundry, and trying to answer a work email.
Mom watched me for a moment, her expression a mix of shock and concern. “What on earth are you doing?” she asked.
“Just the usual,” I replied, forcing a smile. “Cooking, cleaning, working. You know how it is.”
Her brow furrowed as she set the lasagna down. “Do you do this all the time?”
I nodded, suddenly feeling the weight of it all. “Yeah, Mom. Ruby’s busy with work, so I handle most of the house stuff.”
Mom crossed her arms, her face growing stern. “This isn’t right. You work full-time too. Why are you doing everything?”
I shrugged, fighting back the lump in my throat. “I don’t mind helping, but it’s getting hard. I haven’t seen my friends in ages, and I’m exhausted.”
Mom’s expression hardened. “This has gone on long enough. I know exactly what needs to be done.”
Before I could ask what she meant, she was already grabbing her phone. “Mom, what are you doing?”
“You’ll see,” she said, her voice firm.
The next day, I got a call from Ruby, her voice shaking with anger.
“How could you do this to me?!” she yelled. “I had yoga, a waxing appointment, and a manicure scheduled for the weekend!”
I blinked, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Your mother showed up out of nowhere and said I’m on my own with the kids! She said you needed a break and whisked you away to a spa for the weekend!” Ruby’s voice was thick with frustration.
I stood there, frozen. Mom hadn’t mentioned her plan. “Wait, she what?”
Before I could respond, I heard a rustling on the other end of the line, then my mother’s calm, unwavering voice cut in.
“Ruby, you’ve taken advantage of him for too long,” Mom said. “He works full-time just like you, and yet he does everything at home. That ends now.”
There was a pause. Ruby didn’t respond right away, probably stunned by my mother’s sudden intervention.
“Mom—” I began, but she interrupted me gently. “Don’t worry, son. I’ve got this. You’re going to that spa, and Ruby’s going to handle everything herself for a change.”
Ruby stammered, “But… I didn’t realize…”
Mom didn’t let her finish. “Well, now you will. It’s about time you spent some quality time with your kids.”
With that, the call ended. I stood there, phone in hand, feeling a mix of disbelief and relief. For the first time in years, I felt truly seen. Mom understood, and she was standing up for me.
The spa weekend was exactly what I needed. For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t worrying about cleaning, cooking, or running errands. I wasn’t balancing work with household duties. I was just… me.
As I soaked in the hot tub, I realized how much weight I’d been carrying.
“I didn’t realize how much I needed this until now,” I muttered to myself, sinking deeper into the warm water. The tension in my body slowly melted away, leaving me feeling lighter than I had in years.
Back at home, Ruby was getting a taste of what I had been dealing with for the past three years. From the moment she woke up, the kids were her responsibility—breakfast, school drop-offs, laundry, cleaning. She finally understood what I had been going through.
When I returned home on Saturday evening, Ruby was waiting for me at the door. Her hair was a mess, and she had dark circles under her eyes. She rushed to me, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I didn’t realize how much you were handling. It was overwhelming.”
I hugged her back, feeling the weight of her apology. “It’s okay,” I said softly. “But we need to work together from now on. I can’t do everything by myself.”
She pulled back, looking me in the eyes. “I know. I’ve already spoken to my boss about reducing my hours. I need to be more present for you and the boys. I don’t want to lose our family.”
Her words were a balm to my tired soul. For the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful. Maybe things could change. Maybe we could find a better balance.
Over the next few weeks, things improved. Ruby followed through on her promise—she cut back her hours at work and started helping more around the house. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a huge step in the right direction.
I finally felt like we were a team again. I learned that it’s okay to ask for help, to demand balance and respect in a relationship. Ruby and I were working on it, and for the first time in years, I felt like we were truly in this together.
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