I was making pancakes when Anka came to our house. Why did she think I was dumber than her?
My name is Zosia, and my husband is dumber than his own slippers… On one of those seemingly peaceful evenings, while I was making pancakes, my husband knocked on the door. I looked out of the kitchen in surprise, holding a hot pan in my hand. The moment he opened the door, he pushed a young, obviously pregnant woman in front of him, introducing her as his girlfriend. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
I greeted them in a sarcastic tone, informing them that the pancakes were ready. I continued in a hospitable way to show how nervous I was about the situation. I bowed so low that the pancake in the pan slid dangerously close to the edge and almost fell to the floor. Waving the hot object, I invited them to the table ominously.
The glint of delight in Anka's eyes quickly disappeared, and they both began to fear eating, thinking that the food might be poisoned.
The conversation about our childlessness led to an unexpected turn of events for the traitor. When Anka began to argue her relationship with my husband by saying that I had not gotten pregnant in eight years of marriage, and she had almost immediately, I decided to bring out the heavy artillery. My revenge was well thought out, and I never thought that I would be able to punish this monster and his stupid mistress so spectacularly.
I proved that he was not the father of Anka's child, because our infertility affected only him, which was confirmed by the test results. Anka blushed and started crying profusely.
-I don't know who his father is – she exclaimed, covered her face with her hands again and cried even harder.
My husband and I looked at Anka in silence for a moment. We didn't know what else to say, so we waited for her to calm down. She didn't calm down, so we continued.
-Listen, I want to resolve this problem peacefully.
-You want a divorce?
-Yes! I really want to!
-That's possible. But I have two conditions. First, Anka has to leave here immediately. And second… I'll say “second” when she's gone.
-Anka, did you hear? – Leon asked. She stood up from the table in disbelief and, urged by Leon, ran out of the apartment, slamming the door.
-What's the second thing? – Leon asked.
-You're giving me your apartment – I replied. – The one he wanted to give to his mistress. In order to settle the divorce matter without any publicity, he agreed without hesitation…