The Husband and Son Regret Their Favoritism

On my birthday, my husband's childhood sweetheart Irina posted the new robot that my husband and son had made for her on social media.

I casually liked the post, but soon received a scolding from my husband:

"Didn't we give you one too? Our son even baked you a cake by hand. What more do you want?"

However, Irina's robot was clearly the latest model, and even the cake our son gave her was a bit larger than mine.

They love me, but they love Irina a little more.

Perhaps I should try to let go and love them a little less too.

————————

The clock had just struck midnight, signaling the arrival of a new day, when my husband and son returned home.

The cake on the table remained untouched, with a sign that read: "Happy Birthday, Mom"

"Why haven't you eaten the cake? Were you waiting for us to come back and eat together?"

My husband forced a smile and, along with our son, lit the candles to sing me the birthday song.

But I only felt irritated, waving my hand dismissively, "I have no appetite. You two go ahead and eat."

Upon hearing this, my husband's face immediately fell.

"I know you're still upset about Irina, but can't you be a little more understanding? She doesn't have any family here. Today she had a rough time at work, so our son and I just went to comfort her a bit. Nothing else happened, don't overthink it."

Our son chimed in, "That's right, Mom. Aunt Westwood's got it tough as a single woman. Can't you be a little more gracious?"

Looking at the father and son duo singing the same tune, my heart felt colder than if it had been plunged into an ice cave.

It was my birthday, yet this father and son had abandoned me to go find an outsider.

Every time I get angry and lose it because they neglect me to care for Irina, they always trot out this same old excuse.

Making me feel like I'm the unreasonable villain in all of this.Every time, their behavior would leave me crying silently in the dead of night. But come morning, all it took was a kind word or a small gift to placate me, and I'd be right back to playing mommy for the two of them, happy as can be.

This time, it was clear they thought they could manipulate me the same way.

But I'd grown tired of these tests of obedience.

"Mhm, you're right. You two go keep her company. I'll just celebrate my birthday with my girlfriends," I said.

With that, I grabbed my purse and prepared to head out.

The father-son duo was clearly caught off guard by my attitude, left stunned and speechless.

Seeing I was actually about to leave, my husband rushed over to stop me.

"You're forty years old now. Can't you stop throwing these little tantrums? My company keeps me busy, and our son is swamped with schoolwork. We're exhausted trying to make time to humor you, okay?"

Exhausted?

I gave them both an icy stare. They weren't too tired to build Irina the latest model robot. They weren't too tired to bake Irina a cake the size of a washbasin.

So how come when it comes to me, they're suddenly so worn out from tossing me an outdated housekeeping bot and whipping up a tiny cake with leftover ingredients?"You want too much. I'm not angry, I just want to celebrate my birthday with my girlfriends. It's been years since I've done that with them."

"Mom! When will you stop this nonsense?"

My son suddenly erupted, knocking over the cake on the table. The candles nearly set the tablecloth on fire.

He's been under a lot of stress from school lately, always emotionally unstable. Every time he loses it, I patiently try to calm him down.

But this time, I remained unmoved.

Seeing that I made no attempt to soothe him, my son's anger intensified. He started hitting and smashing the furniture around the house.

"What will it take for you to leave me and Dad alone? Isn't years of your psychological control enough? Are you trying to drive us insane before you're satisfied?"

Looking at my son's hysterical state, I felt a wave of sadness wash over me.

All these years of hard work, pouring my heart and soul into my husband and son. Just because I wanted a little extra attention from them on my 40th birthday, I'm labeled as a control freak.

What a failure I've become, haven't I?

I laughed bitterly at myself, then saw my husband comforting our son while sternly rebuking me.

"Look what you've done to our son! Are you even fit to be a mother? If you really can't go on like this, maybe we should get a divorce."Every time I get angry, my husband coldly says this phrase, and every time I give in out of fear.

But this time, I don't care anymore.

They may love me very much, but they love Irina a little more.

And I should try to love them a little less.

"Fine then."

After saying that, I ignored the shocked expressions of the father and son and walked straight out the door.