Marriage is supposed to be a partnership, a mutual journey where both individuals grow and support each other. But what do you do when your spouse decides you need a bit of “improvement”? That’s exactly what happened to me when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to “help me become a better wife.” At first, I was stunned, but instead of blowing up, I decided to play along. Little did Jake know, he was in for a lesson that would turn his newfound approach to marriage upside down.

I’ve always been the calm one in our marriage. Jake, on the other hand, gets easily influenced by the latest trends, whether it’s a hobby, a life-changing YouTube video, or a new friend. Things were fine between us until Jake met Steve.

Steve is the type of guy who thinks his loud opinions make him an expert. Perpetually single and somehow a self-proclaimed relationship guru, Steve dished out advice to Jake and his other married colleagues as if he had it all figured out. Jake, unfortunately, was captivated by Steve’s overconfidence.

It didn’t take long before Jake started parroting Steve’s ridiculous views: “Steve says the wife should take charge of the household.” Or, “Steve believes it’s important for a woman to always look good for her husband, no matter how long they’ve been married.” The eye rolls from me were constant, but Jake didn’t notice. Slowly, things began to change.

One evening, Jake came home with something that would test every ounce of patience I had. He sat me down, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across the table. I raised an eyebrow as he began to explain, his tone dripping with a condescension I’d never heard from him before.

“You’re a great wife, Lisa, but I think there’s room for improvement. Steve helped me come up with this routine to help you become a better wife,” he said with a straight face.

My jaw dropped as I scanned the paper. At the top, written in bold letters, was “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife.” The list outlined a schedule that was straight out of the 1950s. I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day, hit the gym, make Jake a gourmet breakfast, clean the house, and still manage to cook dinner from scratch every night. Oh, and let’s not forget hosting his friends whenever they came over.

I couldn’t believe it. The whole thing was insulting, sexist, and unrealistic. Jake had clearly lost his mind.

I could’ve thrown that list in Jake’s face, but instead, I smiled sweetly. “You’re right, Jake. I’ll start tomorrow,” I said, pinning the schedule on the fridge.

Relief washed over him. He had no idea what was coming. The next day, as I sipped my coffee, I stared at that ridiculous schedule and couldn’t help but smirk. If Jake thought he could “improve” me with a list, he was about to find out just how expensive and exhausting perfection could be.

I sat down at my laptop and drafted a new document titled, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” If he wanted a perfect wife, I’d demand perfection in return—at a cost.

I started by listing everything Jake had suggested for me, beginning with the gym. If I was expected to work out every day, he could pay for a personal trainer. I added the cost: $1,200 for a trainer.

Next came the gourmet meals. Organic, free-range, non-GMO groceries? That wouldn’t fit into our current budget. I jotted down: $700 a month for groceries.

As I continued, the list became more outrageous. I calculated that if Jake wanted me to dedicate my entire day to his schedule, I’d have to quit my job. That would require him to cover my salary. I wrote: $75,000 a year to replace Lisa’s income.

The best part? I added a line about needing a “man cave” for Jake and his friends, complete with a price tag of $50,000 for construction. After all, if I was going to be the perfect wife, they’d need their own space so they wouldn’t disrupt my routine.

When I was finished, the list was a financial nightmare, but it was beautiful. I printed it, set it on the kitchen counter, and waited.

That evening, Jake came home in a great mood. As soon as he saw the paper on the counter, he asked, “What’s this?”

I kept my expression neutral as I responded, “Oh, it’s a list to help you become the best husband ever.”

At first, he chuckled, thinking I was playing along. But as he read further, his smile faded. “$1,200 for a personal trainer? $700 a month for groceries? $75,000 a year? What is this, Lisa?” he asked, looking up at me in disbelief.

I leaned back and crossed my arms. “Well, Jake, if you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., make gourmet meals, clean the house, and host your friends, we’ll need to make some adjustments. Perfection costs money.”

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. “Wait… you’re quitting your job?” he stammered.

“How else am I supposed to follow your schedule?” I replied with a shrug.

Jake’s face turned pale as he flipped through the list, the absurdity of his demands finally sinking in. He stammered, “I didn’t realize… I’m sorry, Lisa. I didn’t mean for it to be like this.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Jake, marriage isn’t about one person making demands or trying to ‘fix’ the other. It’s about respect and equality. If you ever try to impose a schedule like this again, you’ll be paying a lot more than what’s on that paper.”

Silence filled the room as Jake’s shoulders slumped. He let out a deep sigh and whispered, “I’ve been a fool. I let Steve get in my head. I see now how ridiculous this is.”

We tore up both lists together, the tension finally easing. For the first time in weeks, we were back on the same page, reminded that marriage isn’t about perfection—it’s about being better together.

In the end, Jake learned the hard way that marriage isn’t a project to fix. It’s about mutual respect, understanding, and being partners in the ups and downs. Trying to mold your spouse into someone they’re not will only backfire. Instead of lists and routines, focus on building a relationship based on equality and love. That’s where true improvement happens.