Two days later, I started working as a bartender at a popular sports bar—the same one my husband and his friends frequented every week for their bowling nights. The job was tiring, but the best part? I got to see firsthand how he spent his “well-earned” free time while I was juggling two jobs. Every time he walked in with his buddies, I’d greet him with a sweet smile and ask if he wanted his usual drink. His face turned red the first time he saw me behind the bar, but he didn’t say much—yet.

After a couple of weeks, he started getting annoyed. “Why did you pick this job?” he asked one night as I got home late. I shrugged. “You said I needed a second job. This one works with my schedule.” He huffed and grumbled about how it wasn’t “respectable” for a married woman to work at a bar. Oh, but it was respectable for me to financially support our household while he bowled with his friends? The irony wasn’t lost on me.

One evening, his friends teased him about how his wife was the one serving them drinks while he sat back and relaxed. The discomfort on his face was priceless. That night, he came home fuming, complaining that it was embarrassing for him. “If it bothers you so much,” I said calmly, “you could always take a second job yourself. Then I wouldn’t have to do this one.” He didn’t have much to say after that.