**Because of a chicken, I kicked my husband out. And I dont regret it.**
That morning, Élodie was exhausted. Shed spent the whole day tidying the living room, hanging the laundry, picking up the little ones toys, and scrubbing the tiles. Finally, she glanced at the oven: the roast chicken with its golden potatoes was browning beautifully, filling the kitchen with a dizzying aroma.
Just ten more minutes, she muttered, setting the timer before rushing to the bathroom to clean the grout. Everything was running smoothly until the front door slammed.
The kids must be home, she thought. But standing on the threshold was not Lucas or Camille; it was her husband Julien, who was supposed to have been in the garage since early morning.
Oh, it smells divine! he exclaimed, rubbing his hands. Your roast chicken never fails!
Call the kids for dinner, Élodie told him, turning back to the sink.
A minute later, bare feet pounded the floor, sneakers scurried in the hallway, and laughter erupted. Hearing a commotion, Élodie left the kitchen, forgetting the timer.
Whats happening? she asked, still wearing gloves.
I want a thigh! shouted Camille, ten.
Me too! added Lucas, eight.
There are two, right? Élodie replied, puzzled.
No! Theres only one left! Camille protested, stamping her foot.
Élodie walked over to the table. Indeed, half the chicken had vanished; only the breasts and a few stray potatoes remained.
And dad?
He left. He took half the chicken and went, Lucas grumbled.
Élodie grabbed her phone and called Julienno answer. She snatched the keys and stormed out, fury bubbling over. Once again he had taken the best piece. This time it wasnt even for himself; it was for his friends. It went beyond selfishness; it felt like betrayal.
Near the village square, on a bench, Julien sat with his buddies, beers in hand, the chicken perched on his lap. They laughed, ate, and licked their fingers.
Isnt that a lot? she snapped, eyes blazing.
Come home, well talk later, Julien replied, embarrassed in front of his mates.
No, were talking now! You stole what I prepared for our children! Arent you ashamed? Its not enough to keep the prime cuts for yourself; now youre feeding your friends with what isnt yours?
Leave before I lose it, he said, grabbing her arm.
What are you doing? Élodie flared. Youre not just selfish, Julienyoure a thief. A thief who pilfers his own kids food to fatten your drunken pals!
Cut the drama, Elo, he growled, humiliated before the group. It was just once.
Once? What about the fruit? The caviar my mother gave you that you devoured in a day? The barbecue where you left the kids with burnt scraps while you gorged on the best portions?
Élodie turned on her heel and went back inside.
That evening, when he returned, she was at the window.
You should see yourself, Julien sneered. Divorcing over a chicken. We should put you on a TV show.
Im filing for divorce, she said coldly. You dont get it. Its not the chicken. Its your rudeness, your greed, and the fact you only think of yourself.
Where am I supposed to go? he mocked. Youve crossed the line.
To your mothers house. The one who taught you that anything good belongs to you. Let her share it with you now.
Julien left, convinced Élodie was bluffing. The next day she filed the papers. He ended up sleeping at his mothers.
Two weeks later, the phone rang.
You were right, sighed his exmotherinlaw. He devours everything in my house. I buy chocolates, he takes one and the rest disappears by evening. I thought you were exaggerating, but yesterday he even took the last drop of water from the kettle without asking.
You want me to take him back? Élodie asked, surprised.
No just to vent, I guess.
Good luck then. Ive turned the page on that glutton. And guess what I finally breathe freely.
*Lesson: Love lets us tolerate many things, but when selfishness dominates the table, it suffocates the spirit of the home.*
I Chased My Husband Away Over a Chicken Dish, and I Have No Regrets!
