I broke my arm and asked my husband to help care for our 5-month-old twins, but he refused, telling me, “Moms don’t get sick days. You wanted kids, so you take care of them.” So I decided to teach him a lesson he would never forget.

Three nights later, Mom called my cell phone. “My car won’t start, Brianna. I can’t make it over tonight.”

I looked over at the twins, who both desperately needed a bath. “It’s okay, Mom.”

“Don’t try bathing them alone,” she warned.

“I won’t,” I promised.

“Promise me?” she insisted.

“I’ll wait for Mason to get home, I promise,” I told her.

When Mason walked through the front door later, I met him near the kitchen entryway. “I need you to bathe the boys tonight.”

He dropped his house keys into the metal bowl on the entryway table with a loud clatter. “I just walked in, Brianna. Don’t you think you’re being a bit ridiculous right now?”

“They need a bath,” I urged.

“Skip it,” he said carelessly.

“They really need one, Mason.”

“Use a washcloth and warm water,” he instructed without stopping. “That’s what tired mothers do.”