Anna sat on the sofa, clutching a mug of cooling tea. Her eyes lazily followed her older son, who was playing with toy cars on the carpet. In the kitchen, the clock ticked quietly, creating an illusion of tranquility. But Anna knew this was the calm before the storm. Little Masha had been sleeping for almost two hours, which meant that in ten minutes it would start: crying, tantrums, and endless questions.
Footsteps were heard in the hallway. Sergey, who had just returned from work, threw his keys on the side table and began to take off his shoes.
«I’m home,» he said briefly, removing his coat.
Anna knew that tone. It wasn’t angry, but it was as if Sergey expected her to jump up, fetch his slippers, and start asking how his day went. She didn’t jump up. She remained seated, trying to gather her thoughts after a long day.
«Why do you look so tired? You’ve been home all day,» he continued, looking into the living room. «What have you been doing?»
Anna silently looked at him. This conversation was painfully familiar. For him, «home all day» meant relaxation, the couch, TV shows. He couldn’t understand that her «home all day» was a marathon. Barely opened her eyes in the morning, and it was already lunchtime. Just made breakfast—time to cook lunch. Then dinner. And between these three stages, someone was either crying, spilling compote, or dropping something off the table.
«Oh, nothing, Sergey, just sitting around,» she replied. Her voice carried more fatigue than irritation.
«Yeah, right,» he smirked. «You’ve got it easy. Today I had: five back-to-back meetings, only one lunch break, and even that was at the computer. I barely dragged myself home.»
Anna didn’t argue. She had long realized that any of her arguments would clash with his firm belief: office work is hard, home work is not work. Period. It wasn’t about arguing here, it was about showing. But how?
When the children finally fell asleep, Anna tried to relax. Sergey, absorbed in his phone, sat at the table, glancing at his wife. It seemed strange to him that she looked so tired. He really didn’t understand why. The kids were home all day. They’re small, what could they possibly do to exhaust an adult so completely?
«You know, I think you take on too much,» he suddenly declared. «Maybe you should rest more, huh?»
Anna just snorted.
«And when am I supposed to rest? Between cleaning the kitchen and wiping Masha’s nose? Or maybe at night, when the younger one wakes up three times?»
Sergey shrugged.
«Come on, you’re making it complicated. Just need to distribute your time properly. Make some kind of plan.»
Anna rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She knew: Sergey loved to give advice. Especially when he had no clue about the matter.
That evening, Anna couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. Her husband’s words stuck in her head, swirling around, causing more and more anger. Did he really think she just lounged at home while he «slaved away»?
She remembered how she used to work in an office. Back then, she herself thought that housewives had it easy. But everything changed once she first stayed home with the kids. Working in an office turned out to be easier: at least there’s a lunch break and a chance to be alone.
Anna threw off the blanket and went to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator, took out a piece of cheese, and mechanically cut it with a knife. «I wonder,» she thought, «could he last even a couple of days? No, it’s useless. He wouldn’t even try. Always finds a way to justify himself.»
But a few days later, circumstances changed. And Sergey found himself in the role of a househusband.
«I need to visit my mom. For a week,» Sergey announced at dinner, carefully cutting a cutlet.
Anna looked up from her plate in surprise. Sergey rarely talked about his parents, and here he was, suddenly planning a week-long visit.
«What happened?» she asked.
«She’s very ill. My father called, asked for help. They can’t manage on their own,» Sergey looked a bit embarrassed. Apparently, the conversation with his father was difficult.
«Well, go, of course,» Anna shrugged. She herself hadn’t visited her mother-in-law in a long time, but she wasn’t eager: with Masha in her arms and Sasha needing attention, a trip to another city seemed impossible.
Sergey fell silent, carefully choosing his words. Anna felt something unexpected was coming.
«Listen, maybe… you could go?» he finally blurted out. «Well, you’re more used to being with the kids, you’re home anyway.»
The kitchen fell silent. Anna put down her fork and looked at her husband as if trying to understand if he was joking or serious.
«So you want me to go to your mom’s while you stay with the kids?» she clarified, slowly, syllable by syllable.
«Yeah. Why not? I’ll manage,» Sergey said confidently, like a man with everything under control. «You manage, after all.»
Anna leaned back in her chair and smiled. Not mockingly, but rather curiously.
«Alright,» she unexpectedly agreed. «Just don’t complain later.»
Sergey frowned, but kept silent. He found it hard to understand why his wife had reacted that way. He seriously thought that a week with the kids was easy. How hard could it be to stay home? Play, feed, put to bed. That’s all.
Anna prepared for the trip meticulously. She knew this week would be a challenge for Sergey, and she didn’t want it to turn into chaos. A notebook appeared on the kitchen table, where she wrote down instructions.
«Sasha wakes up at seven. Make him porridge. Better make semolina, it cooks quickly. Masha usually gets up later, but she demands attention right away. Don’t forget to give her a bottle of milk, otherwise, there will be a scandal,» she explained, flipping through the pages.
Sergey half-listened. He thought Anna was making too much of a drama.
«Come on, I know all this,» he dismissed.
«Are you sure?» she looked at him with a slight smirk. «Well, then I won’t remind you that Sasha doesn’t eat bread with the crust. And Masha falls asleep only with her favorite toy. And also…»
«Enough, enough!» Sergey interrupted, raising his hands. «I got it. I’ll manage.»
Anna just smiled. She knew his confidence would soon meet reality. But she wasn’t going to argue. Better let him see for himself.
The morning of departure was strange. Anna stood at the threshold with a suitcase, feeling both anxious and slightly gleeful. She felt sorry for the kids, who were about to get to know their father from a new angle. But at the same time, she wanted Sergey to finally understand what it meant to be with them all day long.
«Everything will be fine,» he assured her, kissing her goodbye. «Good luck there. Don’t worry about us.»
Anna got into the taxi, and looking at the house from the car window, she smiled. Now it all depended on Sergey.
Sergey woke up to an unexpected sound. It was Sasha, who burst into the bedroom with a toy car in his hands and joyfully shouted:
«Dad, get up! I’m hungry!»
Sergey barely opened his eyes, glanced at the clock. Seven in the morning. He turned over, hoping to gain at least five more minutes. But Sasha was relentless.
«Dad, please! I want porridge!» the child insisted.
Porridge? Oh, right. Sergey remembered Anna’s notes. He slowly got up, feeling shattered, and trudged to the kitchen. Little footsteps followed him.
«So, where’s that semolina?» Sergey muttered, opening a cabinet.
Sasha enthusiastically pointed to the cereal. Sergey put the pot on the stove, poured in milk. It seemed simple. But as soon as he turned away, the milk boiled over, leaving a greasy stain on the stove.
«Dad, what’s that?» Sasha asked in surprise, looking at the disaster.
«Everything’s under control,» Sergey quickly grabbed a rag and began wiping the stove. But the porridge still turned out lumpy.
Sasha, of course, refused to eat it.
Masha woke up when Sergey was trying to persuade his son to at least try breakfast. The girl immediately began to cry. He dropped everything and ran to the bedroom.
«What’s wrong, baby?» Sergey mumbled confusedly, lifting Masha from the crib.
The crying intensified. Then he remembered: a bottle of milk. Where was it? Oh, another note.
But Masha wasn’t willing to wait. She thrashed and screamed while Sergey frantically searched for the right bottle in the refrigerator. It took ten minutes to calm her down.
«Is this normal?» he muttered to himself, watching Masha finally peacefully sucking on the milk.
The day continued in chaos. Sasha spilled juice on the carpet, Masha dumped toys all over the living room, and a mountain of unwashed dishes was growing in the kitchen. Sergey kept grabbing his phone to check the time. It was just morning, but he was already exhausted.
For lunch, he decided to reheat the soup Anna had prepared. It was faster and simpler than cooking something new. But Masha categorically refused to eat from a spoon, demanding to eat with her hands. Sergey, not knowing how to cope, left her for a couple of minutes, and upon returning, found the child painting the soup with a spoon.
After lunch, the children calmed down a bit. Sasha settled in the living room with toys, and Masha fell asleep. Sergey decided to use the moment to freshen up. A shower, coffee—and life would seem better. He had just started to relax when a cry came from the room again.
Masha had woken up. She didn’t like being alone in the crib. Sergey hurried to her, forgetting about his unfinished coffee. And so it went all day. One thing after another, like on a conveyor belt.
In the evening, after putting the kids to bed, Sergey collapsed on the sofa. He looked as if he had just run a marathon.
«How does Anna manage all this?» he wondered aloud, looking at the pile of toys scattered on the floor. «And she still smiles.»
He intended to clean up, but he had no energy left. Tomorrow was another day.
By the morning of the third day, Sergey looked like a character from a survival movie. His eyes were red from lack of sleep, his hair tousled, and his mood was on edge. The kids, on the other hand, were lively and full of energy. Sasha enthusiastically talked about wanting to build a «city of pillows» in the living room, and Masha busily pulled her mother’s pots from the cupboard.
«Stop!» Sergey clapped his hands, trying to get their attention. «We’re not building anything. It’s breakfast time now.»
«I don’t want porridge!» Sasha declared.
«Masha wants it!» the little girl shouted, though no one had asked her.
Sergey froze. He felt on the verge of surrender. «This is some kind of quest,» he thought. «Where did I even go wrong?»
After breakfast, the living room resembled a battlefield. Pillows were scattered all over the floor, toys mixed with bread crumbs. Masha, with yogurt-smeared hands, enthusiastically smeared it on the couch.
«Well, there,» Sergey exhaled, grabbing his head. «Just cleaned up, and again.»
He remembered how he once joked about Anna when she complained about the constant mess. It seemed to him that she was just exaggerating. What’s so hard? Cleaned up once—and that’s it. But now, looking at the destruction, he understood: it’s an endless cycle. While you wash one plate, someone is already dropping another. While you put away toys, the kids manage to scatter twice as many.
In the afternoon, Sergey joyfully put Masha to sleep. But as soon as he left the room, a cry was heard.
«Dad, I’m bored!» Sasha complained.
«Weren’t you playing with cars?» Sergey replied, trying not to lose patience.
«I’m tired of it,» the child shrugged. «Play with me!»
«Do you understand that Dad is tired?»
Sasha looked at him as if the words «tired» and «Dad» should never be in the same sentence.
«Alright, let’s play,» Sergey sighed.
An hour later, when he felt himself falling asleep right in the middle of the game, Sergey understood why Anna sometimes looked so tired. The kids never give you a break. Never. Their energy seems endless.
In the evening, when it was time for dinner, Sergey felt like a real chef. He decided to make dumplings. Everything simple: boil water, throw them in, wait.
But Masha decided otherwise. She ran up to him with a scream:
«Give! Give!»
«Masha, wait,» Sergey tried to calm her down, while stirring the water and pushing Sasha away, who decided that now was the time to show a new toy.
Masha, not waiting, grabbed a spoon and swung it to the floor. Sasha immediately stepped into a puddle of water, left from the morning «flood,» and slipped.
«I can’t do this anymore!» Sergey shouted, clutching his head.
But the kids didn’t listen. They merrily ran around the kitchen, and Masha even began clapping her hands, mimicking his emotions.
When Sergey finally put the kids to sleep, he sat on the sofa and stared at one spot. The living room was still not cleaned. A mountain of unwashed dishes stood in the kitchen, and juice stains were still on the carpet.
He took out his phone and opened messages. He wanted to write to Anna. But he didn’t know where to start. «Sorry, I was an idiot?» Or: «How do you even endure it?»
Instead, he just sent: «Everything’s fine. How are you?»
Anna replied quickly: «We’re good. How about you? Have the kids driven you crazy yet?»
Sergey involuntarily smiled. Of course, she knew. She knew what he was going through. But he decided not to complain. Let her think he was coping. Although in reality, he was eagerly awaiting her return.
When Anna entered the apartment, the kids were already asleep. Sergey stood in the kitchen, leaning against the table, with a cup of tea in his hands. There was something new on his face. Not fatigue, no. It was a mix of relief and something like resignation.
«So, how was it?» Anna smiled, dropping her jacket.
«You asking about the kids or me?» he responded with a smile.
Anna placed her suitcase by the wall and looked around. A mountain of toys in the corner, unwashed dishes in the sink, and a strange smell from the kitchen spoke for themselves. But she said nothing. Just sat down at the table opposite her husband.
«Tell me,» she gently offered.
Sergey sighed and began.
«I was sure it was easy.» He took a sip of tea, thoughtfully looking out the window. «You know, cook food, play with the kids, put them to bed. What’s so hard about that? But I was wrong. Very.»
Anna was silent, letting him continue.
«Sasha always wants something. Masha is impossible to put to bed if she’s in a bad mood. Did you know she can cry for forty minutes straight just because her spoon isn’t the right shape?» He shook his head. «And then there’s the chaos. I clean up—they immediately scatter. You wash one plate, and you already need to clean the floor from juice.»
Anna smirked. It was nice that he was beginning to understand. But she didn’t want to interrupt. Let him say everything.
«I really didn’t know it was so hard.» Sergey looked at his wife. «It turns out, you’re some kind of superhero. I almost broke down on the third day. How do you do all this?»
«It’s not hard when you get used to it,» Anna replied, but her voice sounded warm. «You just know there’s no other way. That’s all.»
«Yeah,» Sergey nodded. «But you know what the hardest part is?»
«What?» she asked with interest.
«It’s that you never rest. Never. Not a minute. You’re always doing something. Even when the kids are asleep, you continue. It’s like a perpetual motion machine. Only not made of iron, but of nerves.»
After that conversation, something changed in Sergey. The next day, he himself offered to make breakfast while Anna rested. It was his first step, but an important one.
Now he always took on part of the household chores. Dishes, cleaning, shopping trips. And most importantly—spent more time with the kids. He and Sasha assembled cars, built garages from construction toys. And he rocked Masha to sleep, telling her something funny and incomprehensible.
Anna watched him with mild surprise. Sergey wasn’t perfect, but he tried. He understood how hard it was for her, and he wanted to be supportive. Let it be small, but still real.
A few days later, Anna accidentally overheard Sergey talking to his friend. They chatted on the phone, discussing how the holidays went.
«You should try it,» Sergey laughed. «A week with the kids is not work, it’s survival.»
Anna smiled, hearing this. He finally understood. And although it took him a week, that experience definitely made their family stronger.
