We’d all been looking forward to this getaway for weeks—me, Steve, the kids, and Steve’s mom. A break from the city sounded perfect, and since Steve kept bragging about knowing the “best spots,” I let him take the reins and plan everything.
When we arrived at our destination, excitement quickly turned into confusion. Steve dropped me and the kids at a tiny, run-down hostel on the edge of town. “This must be a mistake,” I thought. But then, Steve dropped the bombshell:
“MOM NEEDS HER COMFORT,” he said matter-of-factly. “She can’t deal with the noise from the kids. I need to take care of her, so we’ll be staying at the luxury adult-only hotel in town so she can relax. Don’t worry, we’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
Before I could even react, Steve and his mom drove off, leaving me standing there with our two confused kids and a week’s worth of luggage.
I was livid, but I kept my composure for the sake of the kids. I got them settled, made a simple dinner, and tucked them into bed. As I lay awake that night, fuming, I decided I wouldn’t let Steve’s selfishness ruin our trip.
—
The next morning, I woke up to a barrage of missed calls and frantic text messages from Steve.
“CALL ME NOW.”
“Where are you?!”
“I NEED YOUR HELP!”
Curious, I finally picked up. “What’s going on, Steve?” I asked, feigning calm.
“You won’t believe this,” he stammered. “The hotel called the police on us!”
“What? Why?” I asked, barely holding back a smirk.
“It’s Mom!” he groaned. “She got into an argument with the front desk because they wouldn’t let her smoke on the balcony. She wouldn’t back down, and they kicked us out! We don’t have anywhere to stay!”
“Oh, no,” I said, trying to sound sympathetic. “That sounds rough.”
“It IS! The hotel charged us for the full stay, and now Mom’s furious. Can you come get us?”
I let the silence hang for a moment before replying, “Oh, I’d love to, Steve, but I’m a bit tied up with the kids right now. You know, keeping them entertained and comfortable at this tiny hostel you thought was good enough for us.”
There was a long pause before he muttered, “I messed up, didn’t I?”
“Big time,” I said firmly.
—
By the time Steve and his mom showed up at the hostel later that day, he looked exhausted and defeated. His mom avoided my gaze entirely, muttering something about needing a cigarette.
“Look,” Steve began, his voice apologetic, “I was trying to make things easier for Mom, but I didn’t think about how unfair it was to you and the kids. I’m sorry.”
I raised an eyebrow. “It’s not me you owe an apology to, Steve—it’s the kids. You left us in a place you wouldn’t even stay yourself, just so you and your mom could enjoy luxury. That’s not okay.”
He nodded and apologized to the kids, promising to make it up to them. And to his credit, he did. For the rest of the trip, Steve took charge of entertaining the kids and ensuring I had time to relax.
As for his mom? She spent the rest of the vacation uncharacteristically quiet, clearly embarrassed by the chaos she’d caused.
It was a rocky start, but by the end of the trip, Steve had learned an important lesson: being a husband and father means prioritizing your family—not just the parts that are convenient for you.
And me? I let him know that the next time we went on a trip, I’d be doing the planning. And he’d be the one staying in the tiny hostel—if he was lucky.
