Trading My Yoga‑Mad Wife for a New Life
Ava Lane, my wife of five years, suddenly gets addicted to yoga. Whenever she visits the yoga gym, she'll stay there for the whole day.
She often does yoga to the point that she forgets all about the time. As a result, she ditches our daughter, Daisy Statham, at the kindergarten, letting her burst into loud cries out of fear.
As I cradle Daisy in my arms, I decide to confront Ava angrily. But she retains a nonchalant attitude.
"You were the one who told me that I should train my body because of how weak I am! So why are you scolding me for exercising?"
I no longer want to tolerate Ava's behavior, so I leave a divorce agreement behind and take Daisy away.
Everyone accuses me of being dramatic, saying that nothing actually happened to my daughter.
Ava responds by crying about the whole thing in front of my parents. She thinks I'm completely unreasonable.
"If not for the fact that Jordan, a personal trainer, doesn't like my figure, I wouldn't have started learning yoga in the first place! And yet, now he tells me that I can't go for yoga anymore! What am I, his slave? Must I obey his every order?"
I just point at Ava's trembling legs while mocking in return, "I can't do anything about how devoted you are to yoga at the end of the day. Once we're divorced, you might as well spend the rest of your life in that yoga gym!"