The roar of the airplane engines faded into the background as I stepped off the plane, two tired toddlers clinging to my legs. I scanned the crowd, expecting to see Tom, my husband, his familiar smile a welcome sight after a long flight. But he wasn’t there.
I called him, my heart sinking with each unanswered ring. Finally, he picked up, his voice casual, almost breezy. “Hey, honey! How was the flight?”
“Where are you?” I asked, my voice tight. “You were supposed to pick us up.”
“Oh, right!” he said, a hint of sheepishness in his tone. “Mike called. He’s in town, and we decided to grab a drink. Just for a few hours. You can manage, right?”
“Manage?” I repeated, my voice rising. “Tom, I have two toddlers, a stroller, and three heavy suitcases. I can’t ‘just manage’!”
“Come on, it’s just for a few hours. You can manage,” he replied again, dismissing my concerns with a wave of his voice.
I hung up, my anger a burning ember in my chest. He had abandoned me, his family, for a few hours of drinks with a friend. I felt a surge of resentment, a feeling that had been simmering for years, now boiling over.
The next few hours were a blur of chaos. I struggled to wrangle the kids, their tired whines echoing through the airport. I wrestled the stroller, a monstrous contraption designed to fold with the dexterity of a Rubik’s Cube, and lugged the suitcases, each one a testament to the sheer volume of “essential” items toddlers require.
By the time I finally made it home, I was exhausted, my body aching, my patience frayed. But as I collapsed onto the couch, a plan began to form in my mind. Tom had underestimated me. He had assumed I would simply accept his dismissive attitude, his blatant disregard for my time and effort. He was wrong.
The next day, I woke up with a renewed sense of purpose. I packed a small bag, kissed the kids goodbye, and left a note on the kitchen table.
“Gone to visit a friend. Will be back when I feel like it. You can manage, right?”
I drove to a nearby spa, a place I had always wanted to visit but never had the time or money for. I spent the day indulging in massages, facials, and manicures, reveling in the quiet solitude.
I turned off my phone, ignoring the barrage of calls and texts from Tom. I wanted him to experience what I had experienced: the feeling of being abandoned, of being taken for granted.
The next day, I went shopping, buying myself a new outfit, a pair of designer shoes, and a luxurious handbag. I spent the evening at a fancy restaurant, savoring a delicious meal and a glass of wine.
I returned home late that night, to find Tom pacing the living room, his face etched with worry. The kids were asleep, the house a mess.
“Where have you been?” he demanded, his voice laced with anxiety.
“Out,” I replied, my voice cool.
“Out? All day? All night?”
“Yes,” I said, “I needed some time to myself.”
“But… but the kids,” he stammered. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“You managed,” I said, a hint of sarcasm in my voice.
He looked at me, his eyes filled with confusion and a dawning realization. “You… you did this on purpose.”
“Yes, Tom,” I said, “I did. I wanted you to understand what it feels like to be left alone, to be taken for granted.”
He looked down at his feet, shamefaced. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t think…”
“That’s the problem, Tom,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “You didn’t think. You assumed I would always be there, always manage, no matter what.”
He nodded, his eyes filled with remorse. “I understand,” he said. “I won’t do it again.”
I looked at him, searching his eyes for sincerity. I saw genuine regret, a flicker of understanding.
“Good,” I said. “Because I won’t tolerate it again.”
From that day on, Tom was a changed man. He became more attentive, more considerate, more appreciative of my time and effort. He learned that partnership meant sharing the load, not dumping it all on one person.
And I learned that sometimes, a little bit of payback can go a long way in teaching a valuable lesson.
Farmer finds newborn calf freezing in the snow — and saves his life with a hot tub
Like us, a lot of animals are susceptible to the dangers of cold weather. People going above and above to keep them warm is always heartening, as they are vulnerable to conditions like hypothermia and frostbite.
Similar to the farmer who improvised and saved the life of a freezing young cow by using an incredibly inventive and unexpected approach.
Dean Gangwer raises cattle on his property in Rossville, Indiana. On a frigid morning in 2015, Dean discovered a startling new addition to his property.
That one of his cows had given birth in the middle of the night was unknown to him. Unfortunately, she gave birth to her calf on top of a snowdrift, and now it was freezing.
The calf was breathing furiously, and Dean was fighting to keep his eyes open. He raced the cow to his house in an attempt to save it.
He knew enough about cattle to figure out that the calf needed a hot bath. And Dean happened to have his perfect cow-sized bath, a hot tub, ready to go!
Strange as it may sound, the tactic worked quite well.
I got in fully clothed, held Leroy up to keep him from drowning, and we had a great hour-long bath, Dean stated WRTV. “I think the ending is going to be fantastic for him, and we both came out warm.”
After that soothing jacuzzi session, the farmer wrapped his calf in warm, cozy blankets.
Leroy is the name of the calf. The cow’s body temperature eventually regulated, and he was ready to return to the herd.
The farmer adds that although sharing his hot tub with the cows was a quick and considerate decision that helped save the little cow, it won’t happen frequently.
“Leroy’s hot-tubbing is over,” he announced. “It’s clear that his days in the hot tub are over, but he might still occasionally sunbathe in the grass going forward.”
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