Off The Record
My Husband Threw $50 At Me And Told Me, “Make A Fancy Christmas Dinner For My Family—Do Not Make Me Look Bad!”
I knew I had to either break under the weight of my husband’s insult or turn the tables in a way he would never forget when he smugly told me to “make a lavish Christmas dinner” for his family while tossing a crumpled $50 cash on the counter. Can you guess which one I chose?
Every year, my husband Greg insists that we prepare Christmas dinner for his family, which was fine until he began to treat it more like a royal order than a team effort.
But this year, he exceeded my expectations by reducing my care and effort to a single condescending gesture. I decided then that I would do more than just cook.
I would make sure he was taught a lesson he would never forget.
It all began last week while Greg and I were discussing the Christmas meal arrangements while standing in the kitchen. Or rather, Greg was half-listening, browsing through his phone, while I was attempting to talk about them.
“We’ll need to plan the menu soon,” I responded. “Your family usually expects a full spread, and I want to make sure we have time to get everything.”
Greg glanced up, then absentmindedly took out his wallet, found a crumpled fifty-dollar bill, and threw it on the counter.
“Here,” he smirked and said. “Prepare a traditional Christmas meal. Don’t make me look foolish in front of my family.“
I tried to take in what I had just heard as I looked at the bill and then at him.
“Greg, this won’t even cover a turkey, let alone a whole dinner for eight people,” I replied.
He leaned nonchalantly against the refrigerator and shrugged. “My mother always succeeded. Claire, be resourceful. Simply state if you’re not up for it. I’ll have to let my family know, though, that they shouldn’t anticipate much. You don’t want them to believe that you’re…
Yes, exactly. Linda, his mother. The matriarch, who was always flawless and seemed to be able to summon feasts out of thin air.
I would be a billionaire by now if I had a $1 for each time Greg made a comparison between her and myself.
My fists squeezed beneath the counter. It had been a long time since I was the person who could have swallowed my rage.
I pretended to smile sweetly instead, saying, “Don’t worry, Greg. I’ll find a way.”
I pretended to be the obedient wife for the next few days, making Greg believe that I was using that $50 to its utmost.
To divert his attention, I would jokingly bring up clipping coupons or looking through bargains whenever he entered the kitchen.
He had no idea that I had something far grander in mind.
I made a Christmas supper that his family had never seen before, using the emergency supply I’d accumulated over the years.
But he wasn’t doing this to win over his family. It was to demonstrate to Greg that I wasn’t someone he could brush off with a snide remark and crumpled money.
I had all of this planned before the end of the week.
The catering crew I had surreptitiously recruited was prepared to turn our house into a holiday masterpiece; the food was planned, and the decorations were on their way. I was excited to watch Greg’s reaction when he understood how “resourceful” I could be, but he had no idea what was about to happen.
The conclusion of my plan came with Christmas Day.
The mansion had a truly enchanted appearance. The dining table was decked out in a sophisticated gold and crimson motif, and the walls were garlanded with sparkling lights.
The aroma of freshly baked rolls, roasted turkey, and honey-glazed ham coming from the kitchen even made the air smell festive.
Greg entered the dining room as I was finishing the last plate, completely oblivious to my progress. His eyes grew wide as he absorbed the view.
He exclaimed, “Wow, Claire,” with obvious admiration. “I didn’t believe you were capable of it. My $50 must have done wonders, huh?”
“Oh, Greg, please wait.” I straightened a napkin and remarked, “This evening is going to be unforgettable.” “I won’t embarrass you in front of your family.”
His family soon started to show up.
Linda was the first one in the door as usual, looking around the room critically and immaculately dressed. She froze when she entered the dining room.
“Claire,” she said. “This looks like it cost a lot of money. You didn’t spend too much, did you?“
Greg puffed up his chest and said, “Not at all, Mom!” before I could respond. Claire is developing her resourcefulness. like you instructed me to do.”
Oh, I thought, Greg. You ignorant, poor man.
Linda arched an eyebrow but ignored it. As the rest of the family arrived, they complimented me profusely.
Greg’s brother exclaimed, “This is amazing,” as he marveled at the spread. “How’d you pull this off?”
With a smug smile, Greg declared, “Claire has a talent for making the impossible happen,” obviously enjoying the success of my labors.
Everything about dinner went smoothly. Greg’s family was raving about me, and every meal was a smash.
I wasn’t finished yet, though.
When dessert time arrived, I presented a triple-layered chocolate cake from the most upscale bakery in town, topped with edible gold flakes. As I set it on the table, the gathering erupted in cheers.
I got up and held my wine glass while everyone else reached for their plates.
I smiled at the interested looks around the table and said, “Before we dig into dessert, I just want to say how much it means to Greg and me to host you all tonight.”
Greg, obviously enjoying the attention, lifted his glass in a fictitious toast.
“And,” I went on, “I must express my gratitude to Greg in particular. None of this would have been possible without his kind donation of $50.”
There was silence in the room.
Linda’s fork hesitated.
Echoing, “Fifty dollars?”
“Oh yes,” I turned to Greg and said gently. “When I asked about the budget for this dinner, Greg handed me a crumpled $50 bill and told me to ‘be resourceful.’ So I took that to heart.”
Greg’s siblings’ laughter caused his face to flush deeply.
His father, however, mumbled, “Unbelievable,” and shook his head.
I went on to say, “This dinner cost a little over $50, of course.” Actually, about $750. Since I didn’t want Greg’s family to feel ashamed, I used my own funds to make sure everything was flawless.
Greg stared at me with wide eyes and his jaw fell. Linda gave him a look that could make flowers wilt—one of utter disappointment.
Her voice was stern as she repeated, “Seven hundred and fifty dollars?” “This is true, Gregory? You gave Claire fifty dollars so that we could all eat.”
The words “I… I thought she could handle it,” stumbled out Greg. “I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, he meant it,” I said with ease. “Greg has the endearing tendency to challenge me. This one just so happened to be expecting that I perform miracles and a crumpled fifty. Isn’t that simply incredible?”
As Greg attempted to control the situation, his face turned a deep crimson.
“May I speak with you, Claire? Privately,” he growled.
“No need, Greg,” I responded, making myself heard by slightly raising my voice. “We should keep everything transparent. After all, your family should be aware of how you spend the holidays with your wife.“
Linda gave a disapproving shake of her head. “I brought you up better than this, Gregory. How could you have placed Claire in such a precarious situation? To be honest, I feel sorry for you. So ashamed.“
Greg’s self-defense attempt failed. “I… I just thought—”
I cut. “Don’t strain yourself, dear,” I said. “Your opinions about me and my ability are quite evident. However, since today is all about openness, I have one more small surprise in store.“
I extracted an envelope from beneath the table and handed it to Greg. He gave it a skeptical look and then opened it.
As he read the receipt inside, the color left his cheeks.
Even though he already knew the answer, he stammered, “What… what is this?”
I brightly remarked, “Oh, just a little Christmas gift I bought for myself,” It’s a spa retreat for the weekend. Think of it as my prize for managing to afford this “lavish” “supper.”
Greg’s brothers burst out laughing, and one of them joyfully slapped the table. Usually a quiet man, his father mumbled, “Serves you right.”
I continued, smiling contentedly as I leaned back in my chair. “You can handle the cleanup tonight, Greg.” “Think of it as your contribution to this year’s Christmas.”
Linda remained silent, but her face conveyed everything. The highlight of the evening, in my opinion, was when she looked at Greg as if he had personally failed her.
Greg sulked in the kitchen, scrubbing dishes, while I indulged in the cake with his family as the meal came to an end.
That spa retreat, too? I had previously reserved it for the weekend of New Year’s. I wouldn’t be going with Greg. Not now, and if I could avoid it, never again.
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