I Cooked a Festive Dinner for 20 People for My Husband’s Birthday — Then He Ditched Me to Celebrate at a Bar
Throwing a lavish meal for my husband Todd’s 35th birthday made me feel like I was being a nice wife. However, he informed me that he was leaving the party to watch the game at a pub just as the guests were ready to arrive. What came next? I got the final laugh, let’s say.
You would think that after six years of marriage, someone would learn to be grateful, but Todd doesn’t. I would give his birthday my all each year, but he would always take it for granted.
But this year, his sense of entitlement reached a new height.
Six years. Todd and I have been married for that long.
Please understand that there are positive aspects to our connection. We’ve had some great moments together, and Todd can be charming when he wants to be. However, there is something about him that just irritates me.
His right.
For instance, last Thanksgiving. Todd came up with the bright idea of feeding our two families dinner. One day at breakfast, he declared it with a smile that suggested he had found a solution to world hunger.
“Claire,” he responded, “I think we should host Thanksgiving this year.”
“Okay,” I said. “It sounds pleasant. How are the duties being distributed?
As if I had just asked him to do a headstand, he waved me away.
“Oh, you’re so much better at that stuff,” he replied. “I’ll take care of… Drinks or anything, I don’t know. Please, just make it unforgettable.
I went along with it even though I should have known better.
Todd played fantasy football and kept asking me, “You need me to pick up anything?” as I prepared and planned for two weeks.
I baked two pies, whipped up sides, and roasted the turkey on the big day.
What about Todd? He walked into the living room with the beer cooler. That’s all.
Everyone was raving about the food and décor after dinner, so Todd felt it was time to claim all the credit.
“Glad you all love it,” he explained. “I wanted it to be special this year.”
I believed I had misheard him.
“Oh, really?” I inquired. “What was the special part you wanted? The centerpiece or the green bean casserole?
Needless to say, he ignored me.
In a nutshell, that is Todd. He doesn’t have to do anything to get the credit.
Then there was his birthday the previous year.
I devoted weeks on crafting a personalized photo album, saturating it with images from our excursions and memorable times spent together. I was eager to see how he would respond when he opened it.
However, as he finished turning the pages, he simply replied, “Oh. Where is the actual gift, then?
His remarks weren’t the only thing that hurt. It was the outright boldness.
The man I married used to write me poetry, but suddenly he was incapable of appreciating a sincere gesture. Something inside of me broke in that moment.
I came to the realization that he was no longer the man I had fallen in love with.
Then his 35th birthday arrived. The last straw.
Todd gently shared his ideas with me while we were eating dinner.
“Claire, I want a big, proper birthday dinner this year,” he replied. “Invite the family, my buddies, everyone.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You mean you want me to plan it?”
His response was, “Well, yeah,” “You’re skilled at this. Please just make it respectable. I do not like to look foolish in front of everyone.
“Decent?” I said again.
Yes, but just don’t go too far or anything. Keep it elegant.
Do you perceive this as entitlement? Observe how he believes he should have a birthday celebration despite the fact that he damaged me with his previous remarks.
I chose to give him another chance even though I really didn’t want to comply. Even though he didn’t deserve it, I still wanted to make his birthday special because it was his birthday.
I spent the following two weeks organizing Todd’s “big, proper birthday dinner.” I would give him classy if that’s what he wanted.
A three-layer chocolate cake that would be the centerpiece, rosemary potatoes, spinach-stuffed chicken, and a charcuterie board with cheeses I couldn’t pronounce were all on my outstanding menu draft.
I used to come home from work every day, tie my hair up, and start organizing, cleaning, and getting ready. To ensure that everyone would have a seat, I even asked our neighbor Janice for extra chairs and a folding table.
What part did Todd play? Nothing at all.
“I’m swamped at work,” he muttered one evening as he flopped on the couch and kicked off his shoes. “But, darling, you’ve got this. You’re skilled in these areas.”
Capable of these things? I could have sobbed because I was so exhausted.
However, rather than yelling, I grinned and replied, “Yeah, I’ve got this.”
Finally, the big celebration day came.
Determining to make things flawless, I got up early.
The house was immaculate. I had handwritten small name cards and matched linens on the table. The cake was adorned with edible gold flakes, the main dishes were simmering, and the appetizers were cooling.
I did go that far, yes.
Around lunchtime, Todd entered the kitchen and began browsing through his phone as usual. He hardly even looked at the buffet I had prepared.
“Looks good,” he said as he got a drink out of the refrigerator.
“Looks good?” Half-joking, half-hoping he’d see the work I’d put in, I repeated.
“Yeah,” he replied, closing the refrigerator door. He then added, as if it were inconsequential, “But hey, uh, don’t bother finishing all this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Instead, the boys and I are going to the bar to watch the game. Stop everything. Inform everyone that something has arisen.
“You’re ditching your own birthday dinner?” I inquired. “Todd, I’ve been planning this for weeks!”
His response was, “It’s not a big deal, Claire,” dismissive. “Just give them everyone a call and let them know we’re busy or whatever. They’ll comprehend.”
“They’ll understand?” I raised my voice. “People are already en route, Todd! You’re leaving after telling me to make this decent.”
He said, “I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the guys,” and dropped the subject.
Then he picked up his jacket and left the room.
“You can’t do this, Todd!” I yelled, but he had already departed.
I was devastated. I had invested all of my money, time, and energy into this supper, and he simply left as if it had never happened.
Cancel everything? after I’d done so much work?
Above all else, though, I felt ashamed.
How could he be so cruel to me? How could he dismiss all of my efforts as inconsequential?
The candles mockingly flickered as I looked at the table.
You’re worth this much, Claire? I questioned myself. Will you allow Todd to treat you like this? No. This is not possible.
I made the decision not to call off the meal at that point. I refuse to let him bring me down once more.
I would let Todd to act like a spoilt child if he so desired, but only after demonstrating to him what “embarrassing” actually meant. He didn’t know with whom he was playing.
I took out my phone and texted everyone in the group:
The celebration continues! Plans have changed. We can be met at the tavern on the main street close to our home. Don’t forget to bring your hunger!
I then started working.
I loaded the food into the car after packing it all. After that, I drove directly to the bar Todd had recommended.
The place was already humming with activity when I got there. I noticed Todd with his back to the door, seated at a table with his friends. He didn’t even realize I was there.
“Well, ma’am? Can I assist you? When the bartender saw the food platters I was carrying, he questioned, his eyes bulging.
I gave him my most charming smile. “Oh, I’m just here to share a meal with some people who’ll actually appreciate it.”
I chose a table close to the bar so that Todd’s group could see me well, and I started unpacking dishes one by one. Everyone’s attention was immediately drawn to the food’s aroma. Nearby customers craned their heads to watch the action.
One man pointed to the feast I was preparing and asked, “What’s this about?”
I spoke loudly enough to be heard over the room. “Oh, my husband’s birthday meal was supposed to be this. However, he chose to come here instead of me, so I reasoned, “Why waste all this food?”
Laughter and whispers filled the room, and some even gave a clap. Todd eventually turned around and saw me at that point.
As his friends whispered to one another, he rushed over right away.
“Claire! Why on earth are you doing this? His eyes darted anxiously between me and the encroaching mob as he snarled.
I didn’t even give him a glance.
Rather, I spoke to the closest group of customers. “You enjoy ham? Take care of yourself! Additionally, cake is on the way.
The front door opened as Todd spewed out another objection, and his sister, his cousins, his parents, and my parents entered.
They glanced at us, then at the food, and finally at everyone chowing down on what should have been a formal meal.
Bless her directness, Todd’s mother approached him directly. “What is happening, Todd? Why is Claire serving meals in a bar when she asked to meet here for your birthday dinner?
Todd seems to want to vanish into the ground.
He said, “Uh, it’s complicated, Mom,”
“Oh, I’d love to explain!” I stepped in. “Todd insisted that I prepare a dinner, but he felt that watching the game with his pals was more essential. I therefore brought him food.
His father gave a headshake. “How disrespectful,” he whispered to himself.
My mother, meantime, picked up a dish and remarked, “The meal smells fantastic. “Let’s have some food!”
Our families soon joined the other guests and began to eat the meal that I had put so much effort into preparing.
What about Todd’s pals? They told him they would never forget this day while they continued to laugh at his expense.
The bar seemed like a full-fledged party by the time I pulled out the cake. I had put the following in bold icing letters on top of the cake:
Greetings on your birthday, my self-centered husband!
When I read it out loud, the pub burst into laughter, but Todd wasn’t thrilled.
He whispered to himself, “Was this really necessary, Claire?”
I smiled pleasantly and cocked my head. “Absolutely.”
After everyone had finished, I began packing the empty trays. The bartender stopped me at that point.
He remarked, “Ma’am, you’re a legend,” “If you ever return, drinks are on the house. “Obviously, without him!”
I laughed. “I’m grateful! I will most certainly stop by at some point.
When the food was gone, the families left quickly. Todd’s mother told him he could have done better, but my dad nodded proudly as he walked away.
On the way home, Todd continued to murmur that he was “humiliated.” He complained further once we returned.
“You embarrassed me in front of everyone, Claire!” he exclaimed, raising his hands in the air.
“No, Todd,” I yelled in response. “You made yourself seem bad. Just so you know, there won’t be another home-cooked supper anytime soon.
At that time, he realized he couldn’t dispute with me. He simply spun around and ran into the bedroom.
Two weeks have passed since that night, and I can assure you that Todd has changed. Mostly, anyway.
His exaggerated demands have decreased, and he has been remarkably courteous—almost as though he fears I’ll perform another prank like that. His embarrassed demeanor speaks louder than words, even though he hasn’t explicitly apologized for leaving me.
I suppose he has realized that I am no longer the type of woman who will put up with his bullshit. In my opinion, that’s a victory, at the very least.
If you were in my position, how would you have responded?
