I Came Home to Find My Kids Sleeping in the Hallway — What My Husband Turned Their Bedroom into While I Was Away Made Me Feral

Returning from a week-long business trip, I found my kids, Tommy and Alex, sleeping on the hallway floor, their faces dirty. The house was a mess—pizza boxes and melted ice cream littered the living room. My husband, Mark, was missing. Heart racing, I followed odd noises to the boys’ room, now a gamer’s paradise with a giant TV and LED lights. Mark was immersed in video games, surrounded by energy drink cans. Furious, I confronted him. He

shrugged it off, calling the kids’ floor-sleeping an “adventure.” I lost it, demanding he put them to bed. The next morning, I treated Mark like a child: Mickey Mouse pancakes, a sippy cup, and a chore chart with gold stars. I cut off Wi-Fi at 9 p.m., read him bedtime stories, and enforced timeouts. After a week, he exploded, but I had one last move—his mother. Linda arrived, scolding him for neglecting the boys. Defeated, Mark apologized, promising to be a responsible father. I kissed him, hopeful he’d learned his lesson, but kept the timeout corner ready.