I Broke My Arm and Asked My Husband to Help with Our 5-Month-Old Twins, but He Said, 'Moms Don't Get Sick Days' – So I Taught Him a Lesson He'd Never Forget

"Bring them home."

"No."

His jaw tightened.

"Hope."

For five months, I'd spent every day figuring things out before Derek had to notice there was a problem.

Then I broke my arm.

And for the first time, I couldn't keep doing his half too.

***

Two days before I went to Mom's, I was sitting on the nursery floor trying to snap Luke's sleeper with my left hand.

My right arm was trapped in a cast.

Miles had started fussing behind me, and my tea sat untouched on the changing table.

Derek walked in, stepped around a basket of clean laundry, and loosened his tie.

"What's for dinner, Hope?"

I stopped fighting with the sleeper.

"My arm is broken."

"I know."

I waited.

"So?"