I thought leaving my husband with the kids for a week would be no problem. But when I returned, I found my boys sleeping on the cold, dirty floor of the foyer.
Something was off. Was there a fire? A flood? No, my husband would’ve called.
I opened our bedroom door—it was empty. Where was Mark?
I then checked the boys’ room and saw him, fully absorbed in his game, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers. But the weirdest part? The room was transformed into a gamer’s paradise—LED lights, a giant TV, and even a mini-fridge.
“Mark! What’s going on here?!” I snapped.
“Oh, hey babe. You’re back early,” he said, not even noticing.
“Early? It’s midnight! Why are the kids on the floor?”
“They thought it was an adventure,” he shrugged.
I lost it. “Adventure? They’re not camping, Mark!”
After I tucked the kids into bed, I decided to treat him like the child he was acting like.
The next morning, I set my plan in motion—unplugging everything in his “man cave.” I greeted him with Mickey Mouse pancakes and a huge chore chart. “You can earn stars for cleaning, doing dishes, and putting away your toys!”
He didn’t like it. “I’m an adult!”
I smiled, “No screens after 9 p.m. Or you’ll go to the time-out corner!”
By the end of the week, Mark got the message. His mom even showed up to help.
Mark apologized, promising to do better. I felt victorious—he’d learned his lesson. If not, I always had a time-out corner ready. 😏
