But instead of compassion and a kind word, I was once again met with reproaches.

«Dinner is over, the children have scattered everything, the house has turned into a pigsty, and you’re only coming now. Who is going to do all this? Why should I live in this chaos while you’re at your job?»

These words were the last straw. Silently I endured his dissatisfaction, got up every day at five in the morning to cook food, put things in order, organize the household — and all this at the cost of my own rest and health.

But the complaints never stopped. Every time, returning after a hard day, I saw the same thing: a mountain of dirty dishes, scattered toys, unwashed laundry and tired children.

And today I heard from him what finally burned me: «I don’t