Witnessing the Reality That evening, I saw firsthand the root of Lily’s exhaustion. Dinner was served, a simple pasta dish she had clearly put effort into despite her condition. Mark took one bite, wrinkled his nose, and declared, “Ugh, this is cold. I’m taking this upstairs.” He grabbed his plate and disappeared, and soon, the sounds of his video game echoed down. Lily sighed and started clearing the table. I watched in disbelief as she loaded the dishwasher, switched on the washing machine, and began folding a mountain of baby clothes. Of course, I helped, but Mark continued his gaming marathon upstairs. Confronting the Problem The next morning, over a breakfast of burnt toast, I decided to talk to Mark. “Hey, Mark,” I began cautiously, “I couldn’t help but notice Lily’s doing a lot around here. Maybe you could lend a hand, especially with the baby coming so soon?”Mark scoffed, not even looking up from his phone. “Oh, come on. It’s a woman’s job, you know?” I took a deep breath. “I’m just saying, maybe you could do the dishes or help put together the crib? It’s not exactly rocket science.” Mark finally looked up, narrowing his eyes. “You are such a drama queen… Lily enjoys taking care of me, just like she will enjoy taking care of our kid. Don’t bring your progressive stuff into my house. My wife simply does what she is supposed to.” The Bet My blood boiled, but then an idea formed in my mind. A plan so ridiculous, it just might work. “You know what, Mark? You’re right. Lily does enjoy taking care of you. So much so that I bet you couldn’t last a day doing everything she does.” A smirk spread across Mark’s face. “Oh really? And what happens if I prove you wrong?”“Then I’ll be your personal maid for the rest of my life,” I replied, smiling widely. “But if you lose, you have to step up and be the husband Lily deserves. Deal?” Mark laughed and extended his hand. “Deal.” The Plan in Action I made a quick trip to the grocery store and returned with the biggest, roundest watermelon I could find. I told Lily about my plan and enlisted her help in preparing Mark’s “pregnancy simulator.” We cut the watermelon in half, scooped out the juicy insides, and wrapped each half in plastic wrap, transforming them into cumbersome belly-like orbs. When Mark arrived from work, I presented the watermelon and gave him a handwritten list of Lily’s daily tasks: laundry, dishes, vacuuming, mopping, grocery shopping, meal prep, nursery painting—the works. Mark chuckled. “This is gonna be a piece of cake,” he declared, puffing out his chest. Lily and I settled onto the couch with a bowl of popcorn. The show was about to begin. The Struggle At first, Mark strutted around like he owned the place, the watermelon half bouncing on his belly. But it wasn’t long before reality set in. He bent over to pick up a stray sock, and the watermelon swung forward, nearly knocking him off balance. He attempted to vacuum, but the extra weight made him waddle like a penguin. Loading the washing machine, the watermelon kept bumping against the door, preventing it from closing.Lily and I couldn’t contain our laughter. “Need some help?” I called out sweetly, making Lily chuckle. Mark gritted his teeth and muttered about “women’s work” being easier than it looked. By lunchtime, he was sweating like a pig. The watermelon half left a sticky residue on his shirt, and he was moving at a snail’s pace. Painting the nursery was particularly entertaining. He stood dangerously on a stepladder, barely balancing his weight. As the afternoon wore on, his bravado crumbled. The watermelon finally took its toll. He was crawling on his hands and knees to scrub the bathroom floor, forgetting his early cockiness. Lily and I exchanged knowing glances. We knew this was more than just a silly bet; it was a chance for Mark to understand the sacrifices Lily made every day. The Realization When the sun began to set, Mark threw in the towel. He collapsed onto the couch, removed his watermelon half, and groaned, “I… I can’t do it. I give up!” Lily stood in all her pregnant glory and looked down at her husband. Mark’s gaze met hers, and his eyes watered. “Lily,” he croaked, defeated and exhausted. “I… I’m so sorry. I had no clue. I never realized how much you do every single day.”Tears welled up in Lily’s eyes, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They shimmered with relief and hope. She gently cupped her husband’s cheek. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. But I’m glad you finally understand.” The Change That night, I helped Lily clean up the watermelon wreckage and made dinner while witnessing the change that swept through the house. For the first time since I’d arrived, Mark helped with the chores. He tackled the dishes, folded laundry, and even managed to assemble the baby’s crib without too much cursing. Mark became Lily’s devoted helper, anticipating her needs before she even uttered a word. He cooked, cleaned, massaged her swollen feet, and repainted the nursery a calming pastel blue. When Lily’s contractions started a few days later, Mark was a pillar of support. He held her hand, offering words of comfort, and even shed a few tears of his own when their beautiful baby girl entered the world.Watching him cradle his daughter, his face beaming with love, I knew my watermelon experiment had worked. The old Mark was gone, replaced by a man who cherished his wife and child above all else. As I prepared to leave, Lily wrapped me in a hug. “Thank you,” she breathed. “You saved our marriage and gave our daughter a father who will love and cherish her always.” I hugged her back, warmth flooding my heart. I knew people weren’t perfect, and I hoped Mark would keep this attitude forever. But if not, I would be back to give him another lesson—perhaps with another fruit.