I believed I was being a supportive partner by organizing a celebratory dinner for my husband Todd’s 35th birthday. Just as the guests were about to arrive, he informed me that he was skipping the party to catch the game at a bar. What occurred afterward? Let’s just say, I ended up on top.

One might expect that after six years of marriage, a person would develop some sense of gratitude, yet that is not the case with Todd. Each year, I would invest my emotions and efforts into celebrating his birthday, only to have him overlook it completely.

This year, however, his sense of entitlement reached unprecedented heights.

Six years. Todd and I have been married for that long.

Our relationship has its good moments, that’s for sure. Todd has a way of being quite charming at times, and we’ve shared some truly wonderful moments together. However, there’s one aspect of him that completely frustrates me.

His sense of entitlement.

Consider last Thanksgiving, for instance. Todd came up with a fantastic idea to organize a dinner for our families. He shared the news at breakfast one morning, beaming as if he had just cracked the code to world hunger.

“Claire,” he said, “I believe we ought to host Thanksgiving this year.”

“Alright,” I responded. That sounds lovely. How are we allocating the responsibilities?

He dismissed me as if I had just requested him to perform a headstand.

“Oh, you excel at that kind of thing,” he remarked. “I will take care of… I’m not sure, maybe drinks or something like that. Just ensure it leaves a lasting impression, okay?

I really should have seen it coming, yet I chose to go along with it anyway.

For two weeks, I organized and prepared while Todd engaged in fantasy football and occasionally inquired, “Do you need me to grab anything?”

On the big day, I prepared the turkey, created delicious sides, and even baked two pies.

And Todd? He brought the cooler of beer into the living room. That’s all there is to it.

After dinner, while everyone praised the food and decor, Todd chose to claim credit for it all.

“I’m really happy to hear that you all enjoy it,” he said. “I hoped for something truly memorable this year.”

I believed I had misunderstood him.

“Oh, is that so?” I inquired. Which part were you hoping to make special? Which is more important, the green bean casserole or the centerpiece?

He completely overlooked me, naturally.

That pretty much sums up Todd. He seeks recognition without putting in any effort.

Last year on his birthday was quite memorable.

After weeks of effort, I crafted a personalized photo album, brimming with images from our adventures and cherished moments shared. I was eager to witness his response as he tore off the wrapping.

Once he finished flipping through the pages, he simply remarked, “Oh.” So, where’s the true treasure?

It wasn’t merely his words that caused pain. The boldness was astonishing.

I had married a man who once crafted beautiful poetry for me, yet now he seemed unable to value a sincere gesture. That moment broke something within me.

It dawned on me that he was no longer the man I had once fallen for.

And then his 35th birthday arrived. The last breaking point.

During dinner, Todd mentioned his plans in a relaxed manner.

“Claire, I’m hoping for a grand, proper birthday dinner this year,” he expressed. “Let’s gather the family, my friends, and everyone else.”

I lifted an eyebrow in curiosity. “Are you saying you want me to take care of the planning?”

“Sure,” he replied. You’re really skilled at this. Just keep it respectable, okay?