At our anniversary dinner, Fiona’s prank pushed me to the brink. We were at Le Petit Chateau, celebrating ten years of marriage, but Fiona seemed distracted, her attention on her phone. When I asked her to put it away, she was apologetic but quickly shifted to discussing a new prank channel.
The pranks had started small but became increasingly disruptive at home, upsetting our kids. That night, Fiona’s prank—pretending to choke in a crowded restaurant—embarrassed us both. I left her at the restaurant and took our children to my brother’s house.
Fiona’s mom, Greta, called the next day, expressing her shock and suggesting divorce might be an option if things were that bad. This left me devastated.
When Fiona and I met to talk, I presented fake divorce papers as a prank. I wanted her to understand how her actions affected us. Seeing her distress, I made it clear: “This is what it feels like. Can you promise no more pranks?”
Fiona agreed, and as we left the restaurant hand in hand, I felt hopeful for our future.
