As their usual Sunday routine — Kristen and Gary spend their morning doing chores at home before heading to the grocery store to plan for the week. But when Gary gets a phone call from his friends, he bolts — leaving Kristen to fork up the $650 bill and find her own way home. Who is more important to Gary, and what can Kristen do to teach him a lesson?
For as long as I’ve been married to Gary, we have had a set Sunday routine. We wake up, have brunch and then hit the grocery store. It’s been this way for the past two years — it’s how the system runs smoothly.
Two plates of food on a table | Source: Unsplash
So, it’s a Sunday morning. I make us brunch while Gary sorts out the outside — mowing the lawn and so on.
“Are you ready?” Gary asked, as he came into the kitchen fresh from a shower.
“Yes,” I said. “Don’t forget to take the shopping bags.”
A lawn mower outside | Source: Unsplash
We get to the store, and my husband and I have a ball of a time. We walk the grocery store per aisle, making sure that we got everything we needed — and then some. We were both foodies, so cooking together was our love language.
Until Gary’s phone rang, and I saw a different side to my husband.
A shopping cart in a grocery store | Source: Unsplash
We were just about to start unloading our cart at the checkout when Gary’s phone erupted with a loud ring.
“Sorry, Kristen, but I’ve got to take this,” he muttered, stepping aside to answer. “You can start checking out, though.”
So I began to unload all of our groceries — the meat, the veggies, the fruit, not to mention the junk food and drinks that we had stocked up on, too.
Moments later, Gary returned, looking both agitated and excited.
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
“Listen, I have to run,” he said, glancing at the groceries as the checkout guy went about scanning them.
“Where do you have to go?” I asked.
“The guys are waiting for me. We’re going to have some beers, barbecue, and watch the game together,” he said.
Gary put his hands in his pocket, and looked toward the exit.
A person holding beer with firewood in the background | Source: Pexels
I thought that he was waiting for us to finish at the grocery store, then drop me off at home before taking off to his friends.
“I’ll see you later,” he said.
“What? Now?” I asked, puzzled. “But we’re about to check out!”
“I know, I know,” he said hurriedly, swinging the car keys. “But I can’t miss this, Kristen! It’s a big deal, you know that the guys and I barely hang out.”
A man holding car keys | Source: Unsplash
“How am I supposed to get all of this sorted out and get home? You’re getting a cab?” I protested, my eyes darting between Gary and the growing line behind us.
“What? No! I’m taking the car. But I’ll call you a cab!”
He hastily began to place items on the conveyor belt.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ve got to dash!”
And with that, he was gone.
A man walking away | Source: Pexels
“Do you need help with these?” the checkout guy asked. “We have people to help with these things.”
I nodded. I couldn’t believe that Gary had actually left me at a grocery store, just to go and drink with his friends.
“That will be $650, ma’am.”
A cashier at check out | Source: Unsplash
Of course, Gary had left without leaving any cash behind. It wasn’t that I relied on him for money — it’s just that we usually did this type of thing together. And $650 wasn’t what I had expected our grocery trip to come to.
I paid and wheeled the heavy cart outside. I stood looking at the parking lot, hoping that by some miracle, Gary would still be there.
That he would be waiting for me.
An upset woman looking down | Source: Unsplash
That he would have finally realized that he was wrong to leave me for an insignificant moment with his friends.
I deserved better.
After a few minutes, a cab drove by. The driver got out and helped me pack all of our groceries into the trunk, and we took off for my home.
A yellow cab | Source: Unsplash
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got with Gary.
What on earth could have possessed him to leave me alone? I felt hurt and disrespected. I hated everything about the way I felt. My husband had never made me feel this way before.
I got home and unloaded all of the groceries. I was in a foul mood by then. So, I made a cup of tea and took it to my bubble bath. I needed to relax before thinking about how to get back at Gary.
A cat among grocery bags | Source: Unsplash
As I was sitting in my bath, sniffing the calming scent of lavender, I decided that I would cook myself a fancy dinner with all the ingredients I had bought.
“Two can play at this game,” I thought, shuffling around the house in my socks and pajamas.
I put on some music and I began to cook — I prepared an elaborate feast, grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, couscous, and the works. All of our favorites.
A bubble bath with tea and a book | Source: Pexels
The kitchen smelled heavenly, and I was in the zone. While waiting for the oven, I set the table meticulously for one — my resolve hardening.
If there was one thing I knew about my husband — he would always check my social media, especially when he was away from me.
So, I took photos while I cooked, and posted them on my socials.
A woman cooking | Source: Pexels
My stories were always perfectly captured, and I usually shared my cooking online. Shortly after I posted every story, Gary would ‘like’ it — and every time he did that, I knew that my plan was working.
Sure enough, my husband would be with his friends — drinking and snacking and watching whatever game they said they were going to. But Gary wouldn’t eat there, not when he knew that I was cooking at home.
For good measure, I sent him a photo of my plate saying:
Dinner is fantastic tonight, wish you were here! xx
A person taking a photo of food | Source: Pexels
Later that night, Gary returned to a clean kitchen without leftovers. I was lounging comfortably with a glass of wine and a book — the evidence of my solo feast neatly packed away at the back of the fridge.
“Hey,” he began uncertainly, after he walked in and out of the pristine kitchen. “The house smells incredible. Did you save me some dinner?”
A glass of wine on a table | Source: Pexels
I shook my head, a slight smile playing on my lips.
“Actually, no,” I said. “But you missed a great meal. Everything was so fresh!”
Gary’s face fell as he glanced around to the dining table, as if hoping that there would be a plate of dinner for him.
“I didn’t have dinner,” he admitted.
“Oh? Why not?” I asked, crossing my legs.
A man sitting and covering his eyes | Source: Unsplash
“Because I saw your stories and I thought that there would be dinner for me, too,” he said.
I remained silent. My husband knew exactly what he had done wrong. I just needed him to admit it.
“Kristen,” he said. “I’m sorry I left you at the store like that. It was a last-minute thing with the guys and I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to be with them, I guess. And I knew that you could handle it.”
Gary walked to the fridge and returned with a beer. He opened his mouth to start talking again.
I raised a hand, stopping him mid-excuse.
A cold beer bottle | Source: Unsplash
“Gary, when you choose your friends over me, it’s more than just leaving me to handle the bills or whatever. It’s way more than that. You left me behind so that you could drink beer. You made me feel second to a barbecue. Today, I wanted you to experience coming home expecting a warm meal and finding nothing.”
“You did this on purpose?” he asked, shocked.
“It’s not just about food,” I continued. “It’s about the people you prioritize.”
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Pexels
“I never looked at it that way,” he said. “I’m really sorry.”
Our conversation that night was long and honest — Gary needed to be reminded of the fact that we were a team and that we did everything together regarding our home. But it turns out that I also needed to be reminded that we could have our lives, too.
“Get out sometimes,” he said. “Go out with your friends, and leave me to take over the house. You’re allowed to escape the routine, too.”
A group of friends having a picnic together | Source: Pexels
When we went to bed that evening, I felt bad. I had never denied my husband food before, but there was a lesson to be learnt here.
Gary needed to know that he couldn’t leave me stranded in a grocery store without a car. Or without offering to help. Beer and barbecue did not qualify as an emergency.
“You’re right,” he said as he brushed his teeth. “I need to get my priorities straight.”
I’m not sure if Gary learned his lesson, but I do think that making him buttered toast and tea for dinner was a step in the right direction.
Buttered toast with jam | Source: Unsplash
Michael Jackson’s only daughter Paris proud of African-American roots, identifies as black
Paris Jackson, the sole child of the late Michael Jackson, said lately that she considers herself to be a black woman even though she is mixed-race.
“I consider myself black,” Paris declares, honoring her father’s lineage and traditions, both musically and physically, adding that her father would have wanted her to “be proud of your roots.”
To find out more about Paris Jackson’s identity, continue reading!
Paris Jackson is an American actress, model, and singer who was born on April 3, 1998. Her parents are Michael Jackson and Debbie Rowe.
Newly arrived members of the Jackson family, Paris, 25, and her two brothers Bigi, 22, and Prince, 27, came into the spotlight, attracting a large number of admirers who wanted to know everything there was to know about them.
The Billy Jean singer used masks, veils, and blankets (for Bigi) to shield his kids from curious onlookers when they were little.
Jackson’s security described the three children to People in 2007 as “well-mannered, well-behaved kids.”They really do have good judgment. Michael’s top priority was them.
But when their father passed away in 2009, the children’s shield was lifted, and they were thrust into the spotlight on their own, becoming easy pickings for the paparazzi.
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And it caused post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) in Paris.She said, “I’ve been going to therapy for a lot of things, but that included audio hallucinations with camera clicks and severe paranoia.”
At the age of 15, the young lady acknowledged that she had made “multiple” attempts at suicide. In 2019, she checked herself into a rehab facility.
“It was just self-hatred,” she remarked.Low self-esteem, belief that I was incapable of doing anything well, and belief that I was no longer worthy of life.”
“My dad is who she is.”
She explains that Prince Michael Jackson, her older brother, has had a significant influence on her today, saying, “He’s everything to me, you know?” Regarding her relationship with Prince, she said to People in 2020, “I’ve always looked up to him and always wanted his approval and everything, and wanted to be more like him.”
He continues by saying that his younger sister “shares almost all of her weaknesses as well as all of her strengths with her father.” She has a lot of passion.
She has walked the catwalk for high-end labels like Chanel and is the lead singer and guitarist for the band The Soundflowers. In addition to her intense dedication for her work, she is dedicated to carrying on her father’s legacy.
My entire family is involved in music. She remarked in 2020, “I mean, I’m a Jackson.” “Being a musician makes sense, but like, a Jackson doing folk indie?”everything pertaining to raceShe shares a racial bond with her late father.The hitmaker, who was African-American and had a darker complexion in his younger years, was said to have suffered Vitiligo, a condition that alters skin color, unlike the Beat It singer, who had fair skin later in life. Throughout his career, Jackson’s look has been the subject of much suspicion, although he has consistently denied bleaching his skin.The rapper said in a 1993 interview with Oprah Winfrey that his skin’s depigmentation was caused by vitiligo and that his nose operation was the only cosmetic procedure he had done.
“I take pride in my race. At the time, Jackson said to Winfrey, “I am proud of who I am.” Paris claims to identify as black, keeping in mind her dad’s African-American ancestry.Paris stated that she “considers [herself] black” and that “[Michael] would look me in the eyes and he’d point his finger at me and he’d be like, ‘You’re black,’” when discussing the situation with Rolling Stone magazine in 2017. Take pride in your heritage.She talks about her lighter skin and says that many people think she’s from “Finland or something” because of her bleached blonde hair and stunning blue eyes. “Okay, he’s my dad, why would he lie to me?” she asks. I just take his word for it. Because he has never lied to me, as far as I know.
Not surprise, she faced considerable backlash after her statement of race was made public. “I get that she considers herself black and everything, but I’m just talking about the visual because you know…black is not what you call yourself, it’s what the cops see you when they got steel to your neck on the turnpike,” said a very outspoken talk show host mockingly of Jackson’s only daughter for identifying as a black woman.That’s what people see, she continues. But that’s adorable and beneficial to her.What do you think about Paris Jackson identifying as a black woman in order to carry on her father’s legacy?Kindly share this story with others and share your comments with us so that we can hear from others as well!
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