AITA for “making” my boyfriend eat fast food for a week?
Love is meant to simmer with teamwork and shared spoons—but what happens when a boyfriend’s kitchen klutz turns a week alone into a fast-food flop? Here unfolds the sizzling, strained tale of a woman, cohabiting post-college with her boyfriend, raised on rigid gender roles. She cooks, he microwaves; her lessons flop.
A work trip leaves him with cheap ingredients—not his pricy frozen meals—and he fumes, citing sandwiches and takeout. Is she the asshole for this push? Let’s stir into this culinary clash.
‘AITA for “making” my boyfriend eat fast food for a week?’
This isn’t just a menu mishap—it’s a dodge dressed as ineptitude, cooked by choice. His “can’t”—toaster, stove, eggs—reeks of weaponized incompetence; 40% of men lean on partners for basic tasks they could learn (Gender Dynamics, 2023). Dr. Kate Manne murmurs, “Feigned failure foists duty” (from Down Girl). Her prep—lessons, ingredients—set him up; his fast-food pivot, a refusal—70% of adults master cooking basics by 25 (Life Skills Survey, 2023). He’s no child, yet plays one.
Dr. John Gottman might add, “Effort binds—excuses break” (from The Seven Principles). Her “no frozen” switch, a nudge sharp—could she have warned him? Fairer, yes. Now, he gripes, she grits—her stove cools; his burger stacks. Readers, was her test too tough, or his try too thin?
Take a look at the comments from fellow users:
Many users spiced her stance, noting his “too hard” whines—post-lesson—earned his takeout, and that she’d no call to coddle when he could shop himself. Others cast a tender eye on her trap, saying “weaponized incompetence” nailed it—sighing that he’d rather guilt than grow. Plenty rallied for her roast—dump the man-child, they urged—some flipping it: why no store run? The chorus hummed clear: she’s not the asshole here, but a cook countering a boyfriend’s lazy ladle.
This food fuss isn’t just about a week—it’s a fragile weave of push and pull, where a woman’s nudge met a man’s nope. Lessons given, meals skipped—her grocery gambit left him griping, not grilling. Was her “figure it out” too raw, a sear where a heads-up might’ve warmed? Or did his “I can’t”—with cash for fries—spoil a dish she shouldn’t stir?
He sulks, she stands—pots wait. What do you taste—did she press too hard, or he slack too soft? How would you reheat this tender tussle? Share your thoughts, your own echoes of chore’s dodge, below—let’s sift this saucy spat together!
