“Just until his floors are done,” my husband promised when his friend moved in. Three months later, I was drowning in mess and resentment. The final straw? Discovering someone had used my good bath towels to clean up a spilled beer… and left them in a soggy heap.
I tried talking, then pleading, then arguing. Nothing changed until I changed tactics. I stopped cleaning anything but my own spaces. My husband’s office became ground zero for the experiment – I let every empty chip bag and dirty coffee cup accumulate right where he left them.
The wake-up call came when an important client video call revealed the disaster zone behind him. That evening, we had our first productive conversation about household responsibilities. His friend found other accommodations within the week, and my husband finally understands why shared spaces require shared effort.
