My husband, Clark, has always been the “too busy for feelings” type — glued to his phone, convinced his job keeps the world spinning. I love him, but sometimes he forgets that being a mom isn’t a day off either. So when he offered to book our holiday flights, I thought, finally, he’s helping. Spoiler: I was wrong.

At the airport, I was juggling two kids, three bags, and a growing headache when I asked, “Honey, where are our seats?” Without looking up, he mumbled, “Oh… about that.” Turns out, Clark had upgraded himself — and his mother — to first class, leaving me in economy with the kids. “It’s just a few hours, Soph. You’ll be fine,” he said with that smirk that could curdle milk. His mother beamed beside him, thrilled to be sipping champagne while I prepared for battle in coach.

But karma works fast when you’re clever. During security, I quietly slipped his wallet into my bag. Hours later, as he enjoyed lobster and luxury, I watched from economy, munching on pretzels. Then came the fun part — Clark realized he couldn’t pay for his extravagant meal. I watched the color drain from his face as he fumbled for his missing wallet. Eventually, he shuffled back to my seat, whispering, “Soph, please tell me you have cash.” I smiled sweetly and said, “Sorry, honey. Maybe your mom can cover it — she’s first class, remember?”

The rest of the flight was blissfully awkward. Clark sat in silence, humiliated, while I stretched out with a quiet grin. When we landed, he patted every pocket, muttering about “thieves,” while I zipped my purse closed. Sometimes revenge doesn’t need yelling or drama — just a little creativity. Because marriage, like flying, only works when everyone’s on the same level — not when one of you’s sipping champagne up front.