My Husband and 4 Kids Are Constantly Slacking off Their Chores – This Time I Taught Them a Good Lesson

A mother of four was exhausted from doing all the household chores, despite working longer hours than her husband. She repeatedly begged her kids and husband to help out, but her pleas were often ignored. Eventually, she took matters into her own hands and taught them a lesson for slacking off their chores.

My name is Sarah, and my life is a whirlwind of real estate deals and family responsibilities. My husband, Mark, works at a shipyard, and we juggle raising four kids: 13-year-old twins Emma and Ethan, 12-year-old Lily, and our 8-month-old baby, Mia. We both work around 50-60 hour weeks, and while Mark gets weekends off, I do not.

For years, I enforced a chore system, teaching our kids to contribute to the household. But since Mia was born, everyone’s efforts have dwindled, Mark included. I often come home to find him on the couch, glued to his phone, while the kids are absorbed in video games or makeup tutorials.

The house isn’t dirty, just cluttered, but the state of the kitchen drives me insane. I’ve repeatedly voiced my frustration, sometimes resorting to drastic measures like cutting off the internet, canceling family trips, grounding the kids, and having heated arguments with Mark.

For instance, one weekend, the kitchen was a battlefield once more, the remnants of dinner scattered across the counters and dishes piled high in the sink. I stood at the doorway, my frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

“Mark, I can’t keep doing this,” I began, my voice trembling with pent-up anger. “Every day I come home to the same mess. What do you even do all day?”

Mark looked up from his phone, his expression a mix of annoyance and guilt. “I work too, Sarah. I’m tired when I get home and would love to just rest on the weekends.”

I threw my hands up in exasperation. “And I’m not? I work just as many hours as you, if not more! But somehow, I am the only one who cares about this house being livable.”

Mark’s face hardened. “I do my part. But sometimes I need a break too.”

“A break? You think I don’t need a break?” My voice rose, the edge of my tone sharper. “I can’t even cook dinner without washing a sink full of dishes first. The kids have chores, you have chores, but nothing gets done unless I nag everyone. I’m tired of being the bad guy.”

Mark stood up, his own temper flaring now. “I’m sorry I’m not perfect, okay? Maybe if you didn’t make such a big deal out of every little thing, the kids and I wouldn’t feel so stressed.”

My eyes flashed. “Oh, so it’s my fault now? If you’d just step up and parent, maybe I wouldn’t have to be the one holding everything together. I’m exhausted, Mark. This isn’t just about dishes. It’s about respect and responsibility.”

The argument continued, our voices echoing through the house, each word a reminder of the growing chasm between us. On that day, he took care of the dishes and organized the house after our intense arguments but my efforts often yielded short-term improvements that quickly faded away.

So, yesterday was no different as much as I had expected my husband and kids to at least clean the house. Before heading to work, I reminded them, saying, “You guys better have your chores done by the time I get home.” They responded with the usual, “Yes, ma’am.”

After leaving work, I texted Mark around 4:30 p.m. to ask what they wanted for dinner, and I picked up their requests at the grocery store.