A wife finds a note from her husband on the fridge one morning..
My dear wife,
You will surely understand that I have certain needs that you, being 57 years old can no longer satisfy. I am very happy with you and I value you as a good wife. Therefore, after reading this letter, I hope that you will not wrongfully interpret the fact that I will be spending the evening with my 19 year old secretary at the comfort inn hotel.
Please don’t be upset – I shall be home before midnight. When the man came home late that night, he found the following note on the dining table…
My dear husband,
I received your letter and thank you for your honesty about me being 57 years old. I would like to take this opportunity to remind you that you are also 57 years old.
As you know I am a maths teacher at our local college. I would like to inform you that while you read this, I will be at the Hotel Fiesta with Michael, one of my students, who is also the assistant tennis coach. He is young virile and, like your secretary, is 19 years old.
As a successful businessman who has an excellent knowledge of maths, you will understand that we are in the same situation, although with one small difference – 19 goes into 57 more times than 57 goes into 19. Therefore, I will not be home until sometime tomorrow.
My Husband Ridiculed My Postpartum Figure at a Work Event – His Boss Confronted Him the Following Day
I’m Claire, and I’d want to talk about a moving chapter of my life that started with intense self-loathing but turned into an unforeseen path of empowerment and fresh possibilities. This metamorphosis took place both during and after a business function at my husband Tim’s boss’s opulent home. It was supposed to be a fun-filled evening, but my husband’s careless remark turned it into a significant turning point in my life.
My nerves were aroused as soon as we arrived at the lavish location by the setting’s grandeur and the guests’ exquisite clothes. I had given birth three months earlier and felt incredibly self-conscious about my postpartum physique, even though I was wearing my nicest outfit. Tim seemed especially keen to show me around his coworkers and their spouses—possibly in an attempt to win over his employer.
Inside, the energy was electric, with people having animated discussions over good wine and delicious fare. I could feel others examining me while I made an effort to socialize, which made me feel even more insecure. I was starting to get nervous that the evening would not go as planned.
In the middle of the throng, Tim and I had a quiet moment until he leaned down and said something that completely broke my calm: “Oh, God, look at their wives.” They certainly don’t tip the scales as much as you do, huh? Three months ago, you delivered birth. Why are you unable to simply resemble them?
His remarks sliced deep, and I was left reeling from the unanticipated brutality. Tears welling up in my eyes, I excused myself and ran to the safety of the restroom. I let myself cry behind the barred door, too ashamed and betrayed to stop myself.
I felt wounded and angry at the same time when I thought back on his remarks. What made him say that? Feeling completely deceived by the person who was meant to be my biggest ally, I asked questions.
Mr. Harrison, Tim’s supervisor, abruptly approached me after I had somewhat regained control. He questioned softly, “Claire, may I speak with you for a moment?” while wearing a worried expression. He spoke in a gentle tone, and I nodded, feeling shaken by the experience.
Leave a Reply