I thought I was being a good wife, throwing a festive dinner for my husband Todd’s 35th birthday. But just as the guests were about to arrive, he told me he was ditching the party to watch the game at a bar. What happened next?

Let’s just say, I got the last laugh. You’d think six years of marriage would teach someone a little gratitude, but not Todd. Every year, I’d pour my heart and soul into his birthday, only for him to take it all for granted.

This year, though, his entitlement hit a whole new level. Six years. That’s how long Todd and I have been married.Don’t get me wrong, our relationship isn’t all bad. Todd can be charming when he wants to be, and we’ve had some wonderful times together. But there’s one thing about him that drives me absolutely up the wall.

His entitlement. Take last Thanksgiving, for example. Todd had this brilliant idea to host a dinner for both of our families.

He announced it at breakfast one day, grinning like he’d solved world hunger. “Claire,” he said, “I think we should host Thanksgiving this year.”

“Okay,” I replied. “That sounds nice.

How are we dividing up the responsibilities?”

He waved me off like I’d just asked him to do a headstand. “Oh, you’re so much better at that stuff,” he said. “I’ll handle… I don’t know, drinks or something.

Just make it memorable, alright?”

I should’ve known better, but I went along with it. For two weeks, I planned and prepped while Todd played fantasy football and occasionally asked me, “You need me to pick up anything?”

On the big day, I roasted the turkey, whipped up sides, and even made two pies. And Todd?