
Six months postpartum, drowning in baby laundry, and exhausted beyond words, I thought my husband would understand when our washing machine broke. But instead of helping, he shrugged and said, “Just wash everything by hand—people did it for centuries.”
I never thought I’d spend this much time doing laundry.

A tired woman in a chair | Source: Pexels
Six months ago, I gave birth to our first baby. Since then, my life had turned into a never-ending cycle of feeding, changing diapers, cleaning, cooking, and washing. So much washing. Babies go through more clothes in a day than an entire football team.
On a good day, I washed at least eight pounds of tiny onesies, burp cloths, blankets, and bibs. On a bad day? Let’s just say I stopped counting.

A woman doing laundry | Source: Pexels
So when the washing machine broke, I knew I was in trouble.
I had just pulled out a soaking pile of clothes when it sputtered, let out a sad grinding noise, and died. I pressed the buttons. Nothing. I unplugged it, plugged it back in. Nothing.
My heart sank.
When Billy got home from work, I wasted no time.

A tired puzzled woman | Source: Pexels
“The washing machine is dead,” I said as soon as he stepped through the door. “We need a new one.”
Billy barely looked up from his phone. “Huh?”
“I said the washing machine broke. We need to replace it. Soon.”
He nodded absently, kicked off his shoes, and scrolled through his screen. “Yeah. Not this month.”

A man on his phone in his living room | Source: Pexels
I blinked. “What?”
“Not this month,” he repeated. “Maybe next month when I get my salary. Three weeks.”
I felt my stomach twist. “Billy, I can’t go three weeks without a washing machine. The baby’s clothes need to be cleaned properly every day.”

A couple having a serious talk | Source: Pexels
Billy sighed like I was asking for something unreasonable. He put his phone down and stretched his arms over his head. “Look, I already promised to pay for my mom’s vacation this month. She really deserves it.”
I stared at him. “Your mom’s vacation?”
“Yeah. She’s been babysitting for us. I thought it’d be nice to do something for her.”
Babysitting?

A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
I swallowed hard. His mother came over once a month. She sat on the couch, watched TV, ate the dinner I cooked, and took a nap while the baby slept. That wasn’t babysitting. That was visiting.
Billy kept talking like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me. “She said she needed a break, so I figured I’d cover her trip. It’s just for a few days.”

A man talking to his wife in his kitchen | Source: Pexels
I crossed my arms. “Billy, your mom doesn’t babysit. She comes over, eats, naps, and goes home.”
He frowned. “That’s not true.”
“Oh, really? When was the last time she changed a diaper?”
Billy opened his mouth, then shut it. “That’s not the point.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I think it is.”

A couple arguing in their kitchen | Source: Pexels
He groaned, rubbing his face. “Look, can’t you just wash everything by hand for now? People used to do that for centuries. Nobody died from it.”
I stared at him, feeling my blood boil. Wash everything by hand. Like I wasn’t already drowning in work, exhausted, aching, and running on three hours of sleep a night.

An angry woman clutching her head | Source: Pexels
I took a slow, deep breath, my hands clenching into fists. I wanted to yell, to scream, to make him understand how unfair this was. But I knew Billy. Arguing wouldn’t change his mind.
I exhaled and looked at the pile of dirty clothes stacked by the door. Fine. If he wanted me to wash everything by hand, then that’s exactly what I’d do.
The first load wasn’t so bad.

A pile of clothes | Source: Pexels
I filled the bathtub with soapy water, dropped in the baby’s clothes, and started scrubbing. My arms ached, but I told myself it was temporary. Just a few weeks.
By the third load, my back was screaming. My fingers were raw. And I still had towels, bedsheets, and Billy’s work clothes waiting for me.

A tired woman sitting near a bathtub | Source: Midjourney
Every day was the same. Wake up, feed the baby, clean, cook, do laundry by hand, wring it out, hang it up. By the time I was done, my hands were swollen, my shoulders stiff, and my body exhausted.
Billy didn’t notice.

A bored man on a couch | Source: Pexels
He came home, kicked off his shoes, ate the dinner I cooked, and stretched out on the couch. I could barely hold a spoon, but he never once asked if I needed help. Never looked at my hands, red and cracked from hours of scrubbing.
One night, after I’d finished washing another pile of clothes, I collapsed onto the couch next to him. I winced as I rubbed my aching fingers.
Billy glanced at me. “What’s wrong with you?”

A tired woman on her couch | Source: Pexels
I stared at him. “What’s wrong with me?”
He shrugged. “You look tired.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Gee, I wonder why.”
He didn’t even flinch. Just turned back to the TV. That was the moment something snapped inside me.

An annoyed woman in her kitchen | Source: Pexels
Billy wasn’t going to understand—not unless he felt the inconvenience himself. If he wanted me to live like a 19th-century housewife, then fine. He could live like a caveman.
So I planned my revenge.
The next morning, I packed his lunch as usual. Except instead of the big, hearty meal he expected, I filled his lunchbox with stones. Right on top, I placed a folded note.

A lunchbox filled with rocks | Source: Midjourney
Then I kissed his cheek and sent him off to work.
And I waited.
At exactly 12:30 PM, Billy stormed through the front door, red-faced and furious.
“What the hell have you done?!” he shouted, slamming his lunchbox onto the counter.
I turned from the sink, wiping my hands on a towel. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

A laughing woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
He flipped open the lid, revealing the pile of rocks. He grabbed the note and read it out loud.
“Men used to get food for their families themselves. Go hunt your meal, make fire with stones, and fry it.”
His face twisted in rage. “Are you out of your damn mind, Shirley? I had to open this in front of my coworkers!”
I crossed my arms. “Oh, so public humiliation is bad when it happens to you?”

A shouting man wearing glasses | Source: Pexels
Billy clenched his jaw. He looked like he wanted to yell, but for once, he didn’t have a comeback.
I crossed my arms and tilted my head. “Go on, Billy. Tell me how this is different.”
His jaw tightened. “Shirley, this is—this is just childish.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, I see. So your suffering is real, but mine is just me being childish?”

An angry woman lecturing her husband | Source: Pexels
He threw his hands in the air. “You could have just talked to me!”
I stepped forward, fire burning in my chest. “Talked to you? I did, Billy. I told you I couldn’t go three weeks without a washing machine. I told you I was exhausted. And you shrugged and told me to do it by hand. Like I was some woman from the 1800s!”

A woman turning away from her husband | Source: Pexels
His nostrils flared, but I could see the tiny flicker of guilt creeping in. He knew I was right.
I pointed at his lunchbox. “You thought I’d just take it, huh? That I’d wash and scrub and break my back while you sat on that couch every night without a care in the world?”
Billy looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

A sad man clutching his head | Source: Pexels
I shook my head. “I’m not a servant, Billy. And I’m sure as hell not your mother.”
Silence. Then, finally, he muttered, “I get it.”
“Do you?” I asked.
He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Yeah. I do.”

A tired man rubbing his temples | Source: Pexels
I watched him for a long moment, letting his words settle. Then I turned back to the sink. “Good,” I said, rinsing off my hands. “Because I meant it, Billy. If you ever put your mother’s vacation over my basic needs again, you’d better learn how to start a fire with those rocks.”
Billy sulked for the rest of the evening.

An angry man in a hoodie | Source: Pexels
He barely touched his dinner. He didn’t turn on the TV. He sat on the couch, arms crossed, staring at the wall like it had personally betrayed him. Every now and then, he sighed loudly, like I was supposed to feel bad for him.
I didn’t.
For once, he was the one uncomfortable. He was the one who had to sit with the weight of his own choices. And I was perfectly fine letting him stew in it.

A woman reading a book on a couch | Source: Pexels
The next morning, something strange happened.
Billy’s alarm went off earlier than usual. Instead of hitting snooze five times, he actually got up. He got dressed quickly and left without a word.
I didn’t ask where he was going. I just waited.
That evening, when he came home, I heard it before I saw it—the unmistakable sound of a large box being dragged through the doorway.

A large box in the doorway | Source: Midjourney
I turned around and there it was. A brand-new washing machine.
Billy didn’t say anything. He just set it up, plugging in hoses, checking the settings. No complaints. No excuses. Just quiet determination.
When he finished, he finally looked up. His face was sheepish, his voice low.
“I get it now.”

A sorry man covering his face | Source: Pexels
I watched him for a moment, then nodded. “Good.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh… should’ve listened to you sooner.”
“Yeah,” I said, crossing my arms. “You should have.”
He swallowed, nodded again, then grabbed his phone and walked away without argument or justification. Just acceptance. And honestly? That was enough.

A satisfied smiling woman | Source: Pexels
Little girl was abandoned by dad who said she was ‘dead’ to him – now she’s a famous actress

In 1975, a well-known musician met iconic actress Goldie Hawn at the height of their careers.
The two crossed paths while traveling from New York to Los Angeles on a first-class flight, and their connection was immediate.
The musician, a member of The Hudson Brothers, was already a prominent figure in the music world, having performed alongside The Beach Boys, The Osmonds, and The Monkees. In addition to his music career, he also appeared in films and TV shows, most notably the cult classic Hysterical.
Recalling their first encounter, the musician described the chemistry as undeniable. “The attraction was instant. I invited her out to dinner that night, and that was it,” he shared. Their relationship quickly escalated, with their physical connection being a central aspect.
“The [intimacy] was mind-blowing. Even when everything else in the relationship turned sour, the [intimacy] was always amazing,” he added, per the Daily Mail. Though their relationship had its ups and downs, there were moments when it seemed as though they were making progress.
The couple married in 1976 when Goldie was pregnant with their first child, a son. However, their son’s birth was not without complications. Born at Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles, he was diagnosed with meconium aspiration, a life-threatening condition in which a newborn inhales amniotic fluid contaminated with meconium.

The newborn was isolated for three days after birth, which deeply distressed the couple. “Goldie and I were beside ourselves,” the musician remembered. He further explained: “She was really sick, and I’d go from her bedside to the neonatal intensive care unit. The doctors didn’t think [son’s name] would make it. But [he] pulled through, and from that moment, he was our precious miracle.”
Three years later, the couple welcomed their second child, a daughter, in 1979. The family of four enjoyed several happy years together, but their marriage came to an unfortunate end in 1981 when the musician discovered Goldie had been unfaithful. The musician longed for a traditional marriage, which conflicted with Goldie’s views on commitment.
“Goldie was having affairs, [and] she told me pretty much on our wedding night that she wanted an open marriage, that she couldn’t imagine being faithful to one man for the rest of her life,” he revealed to the Daily Mail. “I wanted a traditional marriage, but Goldie couldn’t settle. Eventually, I moved out.”
After their split, Goldie began dating actor Kurt Russell in 1983. They had initially met in 1968 while filming The One and Only, Genuine, Original Family Band, but it wasn’t until their reunion on the set of Swing Shift that their romantic relationship blossomed. Their son, Wyatt Russell, was born in 1986, three years into their relationship.

Blending their families proved to be a significant adjustment. Goldie’s daughter recalled: “For me, it felt like such a big moment because it was like, ‘My mom is madly in love with this guy.’” She added: “And I was meeting his son [Boston], which meant, ‘Does this mean that this is my brother?’ It was a lot to handle at such a young age.”
Goldie’s children from her previous marriage struggled with feelings of abandonment after their parents’ divorce. Her son recalled how their biological father gradually distanced himself from their family. Reflecting on a controversial Father’s Day post dedicated to Kurt, he said: “It doesn’t really matter which one of these men is my father. My pa stepped in when I was six and made me the man I am today.”
Both siblings have fond memories of Kurt stepping into the role of father figure. Though their relationship with their biological father, Bill, remains strained, they often express gratitude for Kurt’s dedication.
Meanwhile, Bill has openly voiced his feelings of betrayal, accusing Goldie of “poisoning” their children against him. Despite the tension, Kate and Oliver are focused on healing from their past and maintaining a positive outlook for the future, per Hello!.
By 2015, the strained relationship with Bill became public when Oliver posted a controversial Father’s Day message on social media. He shared a throwback picture of himself, Kate, and Bill, captioned: “Happy abandonment day… @katehudson.”
Bill, angered by the post, expressed his frustration in an interview, saying: “Oliver could have picked up the phone and called me, but he hasn’t. This was clearly premeditated; he chose the photograph and posted it on Father’s Day when he knew it would cause maximum pain.”
Bill went further to claim that if Oliver wanted to cut him out of their lives, he had succeeded. The fallout only deepened when Kate followed Oliver’s lead and posted her own tribute to Kurt, which added to the tension.
Kate appeared on Howard Stern’s show, speaking about how Kurt was the father who was present during the difficult and challenging times. In response, Bill stated, per the Daily Mail: “I would ask them to stop using the Hudson name [because] they are no longer a part of my life.”
He further expressed: “Oliver’s Instagram post was a malicious, vicious, premeditated attack; he is dead to me now, as is Kate. I am mourning their loss even though they are still walking this earth.” Following this, Bill decided to remove all childhood memorabilia of Kate and Oliver from his home, according to the Daily Mail report.
Despite the distance between Bill and his older children, Kurt has embraced his role as a grandfather to Kate and Oliver’s children.
While Bill continues to harbor resentment, Kate and Oliver have moved on, choosing to focus on the family bonds they’ve built with their stepfather, Kurt.
What do you think of this? Let us know your thoughts!
Leave a Reply