Sweat beaded my forehead as I took plate after plate out of the cabinet and stacked them on the counter. “Turn the air down, will you Jack?” I yelled, careening my neck to where Jack was lugging dressers and various other pieces of furniture down the stairs. His jeans were sagging and muddy and his baseball hat was caked with sweat. I vowed then and there to wash it the first chance I got. He claimed he didn’t need movers to move stuff for him saying he was man enough for the job, and I didn’t argue, figuring we would need the money.

“Give me a second Loren!” He grunted as he dragged an exquisite white dresser out the front door which lingered open, letting in the mid-July heat and worsening my headache. He re-emerged a second later, wiping his hands on his pants and leaving the door wide open.

“God, Jack, do I have to do everything for you?” I muttered stalking over to the door and slamming it, grinning when he jumped from the noise. He was bigger than a bear but was no more frightening than a rabbit. He was also very easily scared, also alike a rabbit.

“You try moving all these heavy furniture pieces up and down the stairs for an hour, Loren, and then we’ll see how you feel,” he said, tapping his grime covered boot on the floor. With each connection he shook more dirt onto the floor, and I really wanted to defy him for it but my pride overtook my cleaning machine.

I slammed the pot that I was holding down, unaware of the glass plate underneath it but didn’t flinch when glass shards flew everywhere. “You think I can’t drag furniture around just because I’m a woman?! That is so sexist Jack you’d be surprised, honestly.” I Chuck one of the glass shards at him, not really caring about the vows I made five years ago. Multiple times a day I even question whether or not I should have made those vows.

Jack raised his eyebrow, clearly unfazed by my sudden outburst. “Alright if it’s so easy you come over here and take this mattress down.” He crossed his arms and took a seat on the edge of our worn beige ottoman, giving me a ‘you’re going to hear an I told you so soon’ look with his huge brown eyes. But I’m not going to give, I know I can carry a mattress. I have been going to the gym every other day for years. Honestly he probably hasn’t even noticed- all he cares about is stupid video games. He probably pays his gaming console more attention then he pays me which is so messed up.

“Alright,” I bargained, “if I can carry this down the stairs without any struggle, you have to trash all of your video games, consoles, headsets. All of it. Without complaint.” I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes, daring him to rethink his doubt. But all he did was steely his eyes and yawn like this was no sweat and I’d fail. Oh how I’d show him.

I spotted the mattress that was at the top of the steep stairs and shrug. I used my favorite yellow velvet hairtie on my wrist to tie my hair back into a loose messy ponytail and walked up the stairs with an ‘I’m owning it’ stance, hoping Jack was watching. I picked up the stained old mattress which I hoped was going to go in the trash and started to descend the staircase. It couldn’t have been more than 20 pounds and I smirked at my husband, who was gaping at me like I had just fallen from the sky in a UFO or something.

Before I knew it I had made it to the bottom of the stairs with the mattress securely in my hands. “That was no sweat. Say bye bye to Minecraft, Jack. It was time you grew up anyways.” I took the mattress out to the porch, laughing when Jack growled in disappointment. Never underestimate your wives people. Women are quite a powerful force.