My Husband Only Thinks of Himself—He Eats Absolutely Everything and Never Leaves Anything for Our Son!
“Adam, where have all the bananas gone?” I ask my husband.
“I ate them, I fancied some.”
“Couldn’t you have left even one for our son’s tea?”
“You’re just making a fuss. It’s not like the shops have run out of bananas.”
“Then go and get some more.”
“I’ve got a football match. How can I go?”
This is how things are in our home all the time: cottage cheese, biscuits, apples—you name it. I even have to hide food, otherwise with a father like this, my little boy might end up hungry.
We’ve been married for five years, and our son’s nearly two. We’ve got a mortgage, so money is tight. My husband claims he’s the breadwinner because he got us this home—although, in truth, he just sold his single-bed flat for the deposit, with my parents’ help. My mum thinks Adam is a selfish so-and-so, and honestly, I tend to agree.
One day, we were preparing for a birthday party. I’m cooking for the guests and he’s constantly under my feet, emptying the plates. The worst was when he got at the cake. I’d left it on the balcony because the fridge was full. I went to fetch it, and all that was left was one decorated slice of chocolate. Imagine how embarrassed I was!
This happens all the time. Sure, he works, but it’s possible to be sensible and think of others. His only excuse: “We’ll buy some more, don’t stress!” Fine, don’t think about me, but how can a father not think about his own child? Especially when we barely have enough money, and I’m counting on every bit. He can easily eat a month’s worth of food in a week.
“Why are you bothering him? He’s a man, let him eat. He earns the money. Don’t whinge, just cook more,” my mother-in-law defends him.
Thing is, no matter how much I cook, it’s never enough—he’ll eat everything. We can’t afford to just buy more, with the mortgage, the clothes, the bills.
After all this, I told my husband that if he does it again—we’re getting divorced. We’ll split the flat and go our separate ways. He took offence, ran to his mother, and now my mother-in-law isn’t even speaking to me. But I honestly think I’m right. What do you think? My husband only ever thinks of himself. He eats absolutely everything, not leaving a crumb for even the
As luck would have it, Ive always been someone who sets clear goals and goes after them. By the time
My husband’s cousin arrived. Perhaps I’m old-fashioned, and maybe things are different nowadays
He left me sitting alone at the table and dashed off to celebrate with his mates in the garage. “
Emily, youve been gone for five years now. You havent cared about how I live or whats become of me.
Ever since I was a little girl, my parents told me that no one needed me, and I was utterly useless.
My mother-in-law offered to help us with the kids during the summer. Shes recently retired and has a
I woke this morning to the faint, pained moans of my mum. For a moment, I lay still, uncertain if Id
With money, I became younger. Years later, my husband learned the truth and we divorced. I was born in
A Miracle Didn’t Happen
Tanya left the maternity hospital with her newborn son. There was no miracle—her parents didn’t come to meet her. The spring sun shone down as she wrapped herself in her loose jacket, gathered her meagre belongings and documents, cradled her baby, and stepped outside. She had no idea where to go. Her parents had refused to let the baby come home; her mother demanded she sign him away. But Tanya, herself a child from the care system, had promised never to abandon her own child, no matter what. She’d grown up with foster parents who treated her kindly and sheltered her from hardship, but life hadn’t been easy.
She blamed herself for her son having no father. He’d seemed serious, promised to introduce her to his family, but when Tanya told him she was pregnant, he said he wasn’t ready and vanished out of her life. Now, no one was prepared to help—not the baby’s father, not her parents. Only Tanya was willing to take responsibility.
Tanya sat on a bench, feeling the warmth of the sun and the weight of her future. She’d heard about centres that support mothers in her situation, but hadn’t dared ask for directions, clinging to hope her family would show up. They never did. With resignation and hope, she decided to travel to a village where an elderly lady—her grandmother—might take her in. She’d help with the garden and find work when her benefits ran out, trusting that luck would smile on her eventually. She adjusted her sleeping son, opened her battered phone to find the nearest bus, and nearly walked into the path of a car.
The driver, a tall, gray-haired man, leapt out and scolded her for not looking where she was crossing—saying she’d get them both killed, and that he’d end up in jail for it. Frightened, Tanya wept, which made her baby join in. On learning she had nowhere to go, the man said: “Get in the cab with your boy. We’ll sort this out and see what can be done. I’m Konstantin Gregory. And you?”
She replied, “Tanya,” and followed him. At his spacious flat, he gave her and the baby a room and fetched supplies. His neighbour, a doctor, helped list what she’d need, and when he returned, he found Tanya asleep, the baby wakeful. While caring for the child, Tanya woke and panicked at her son’s absence, until Konstantin returned the baby reassuringly and showed Tanya his purchases. He explained his history—a widower whose son was lost in a tragic accident years ago, whose fiancée vanished before he’d had a chance to help. He invited Tanya to stay, insisting she and her baby belonged.
Moved by his kindness, Tanya explained she’d been adopted, her own mother abandoning her at an orphanage gate—leaving only a necklace. When Konstantin noticed the familiar pendant and revealed it was one he had made for his late son, both were stunned: the pendant held a lock of his son’s hair. It dawned on them—Tanya was his granddaughter.
Her suggestion of a DNA test was waved aside. “No need,” he said, “You’re family—my granddaughter, and that’s my great-grandson.” The past had kept them apart; fate had brought them together—a family at last.
By Sofia Coralova A Miracle Happened Mary stepped out of the Royal London Maternity Hospital, her little son in her arms.
