He is a legendary musician, and we have all sung his songs, but he is currently ill and in suffering.

The renowned Genesis lead singer and drummer Phil Collins has enjoyed enormous success in the music business over his illustrious career.

Joining Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney as the only performers with over 100 million records sold through both solo and collaborative projects, he is one of three. Collins was exposed to music at a young age. He was born on January 30, 1951, in London, England, to parents who were artists.

The move that would define his sound came when he was five years old and received a homemade drum kit from his uncle. It included tambourines, triangles, cymbals, and miniature drums.

Key bands like The Shadows led the way as the English beat genre started to take shape. In addition to leading this movement, Collins would frequently perform at get-togethers thrown by his parents’ sailing club.

Collins was first exposed to rock and roll at the age of fourteen, when The Beatles motivated him to buy a record player and Please Please Me. He would put his drums in front of a mirror and turn up the record player’s volume so he wouldn’t have to look at what he was doing.

To learn how to read drum music, which was necessary if one wished to work in an orchestra pit or dance band, he decided to take drum lessons from a teacher. But Collins soon discovered that reading sheet music was not nearly as good as playing spontaneously.

In the 1970s, Collin’s life took an unexpected turn after he came upon an advertisement for Genesis’ drummer. Collins got in touch with them, and they were happy to have him on board, which launched his incredible musical career.

Many of the songs from The Beatles’ five albums went on to become timeless classics that we still love to this day. Due to a dearth of worthy contenders, Collins assumed the role of lead vocalist for the band quite quickly.

He took a while to get used to being a drummer as well as a voice, but he persisted and became one of the greatest musicians of our time.

As a solo artist and a member of the legendary band Genesis, Collins enjoyed enormous success in the music industry. Hits like “I Don’t Care Anymore,” “In The Air Tonight,” and “You Can’t Hurry Love” propelled him to the top of the music business.

After 25 years with Genesis, Collins made the decision to change directions in his career, concentrating on jazz ventures, movie soundtracks, and his solo endeavors. He said he hoped his old comrades would have a successful career, but when 2017 came around, he decided to go back on the road with them for their Last Domino tour.

Sadly, the pandemic forced a postponement of this tour, and shortly before it started, Phil spoke with BBC Breakfast, raising some concerns regarding his health. With Phil on vocals and Nicholas Collins on drums, the band plans to play live again despite this setback.

Nic is a fantastic drummer, but according to Tony Banks, he could add even more intensity to the already strong early Phil Collins tunes.

Speaking on his retirement from drumming, Phil remarked, “I’d like to, but I can scarcely grip a stick with this hand.” Despite the challenges that come with being physically limited, Phil has not allowed them to deter him from pursuing his love of music.

The storyteller, a man our age, spoke with a palpable sense of loss as he outlined his physical struggles. He bemoaned not being able to travel with his kid and hear about his travels.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to carry on traveling because of his health. His remarks gave off a dejected vibe, as though he had accepted that he could no longer engage in some activities and that they were off-limits to him.

He felt pressured and faced with a difficult decision: stick on his current course or stop his travels. It dawned on him that either way, a physical constraint or a deliberate choice would force him to give up something he valued. He was troubled by this and felt as though he might miss out on a lot of opportunities in life as a result of this sudden change in his circumstances.

I Cooked a Festive Dinner for 20 People for My Husband’s Birthday — Then He Ditched Me to Celebrate at a Bar

I thought I was being a good wife, throwing a festive dinner for my husband Todd’s 35th birthday. But just as the guests were about to arrive, he told me he was ditching the party to watch the game at a bar. What happened next? Let’s just say, I got the last laugh.

You’d think six years of marriage would teach someone a little gratitude, but not Todd. Every year, I’d pour my heart and soul into his birthday, only for him to take it all for granted.

This year, though, his entitlement hit a whole new level.

A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Six years. That’s how long Todd and I have been married.

Don’t get me wrong, our relationship isn’t all bad. Todd can be charming when he wants to be, and we’ve had some wonderful times together. But there’s one thing about him that drives me absolutely up the wall.

His entitlement.

Take last Thanksgiving, for example. Todd had this brilliant idea to host a dinner for both of our families. He announced it at breakfast one day, grinning like he’d solved world hunger.

Breakfast on a table | Source: Pexels

Breakfast on a table | Source: Pexels

“Claire,” he said, “I think we should host Thanksgiving this year.”

“Okay,” I replied. “That sounds nice. How are we dividing up the responsibilities?”

He waved me off like I’d just asked him to do a headstand.

“Oh, you’re so much better at that stuff,” he said. “I’ll handle… I don’t know, drinks or something. Just make it memorable, alright?”

I should’ve known better, but I went along with it.

For two weeks, I planned and prepped while Todd played fantasy football and occasionally asked me, “You need me to pick up anything?”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

On the big day, I roasted the turkey, whipped up sides, and even made two pies.

And Todd? He carried the cooler of beer into the living room. That’s it.

After dinner, as everyone raved about the food and decor, Todd decided it was time to take credit for everything.

“Glad you all love it,” he said. “I wanted it to be special this year.”

I thought I’d misheard him.

“Oh, really?” I asked. “What part did you want special? The green bean casserole or the centerpiece?”

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

He ignored me, of course.

And that’s Todd in a nutshell. He wants the credit without lifting a finger.

Then there was last year on his birthday.

I spent weeks creating a customized photo album, filling it with pictures from our travels and special moments together. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he unwrapped it.

But when he was done flipping through the pages, he just said, “Oh. So, where’s the real gift?”

It wasn’t just his words that hurt. It was the sheer audacity.

A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney

I’d married a man who once wrote me poetry, and now he couldn’t appreciate a heartfelt gesture. That moment shattered something in me.

It made me realize he wasn’t the man I’d fallen for anymore.

And then came his 35th birthday. The final straw.

We were having dinner when Todd casually told me his plans.

“Claire, I want a big, proper birthday dinner this year,” he said. “Invite the family, my buddies, everyone.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You mean you want me to plan it?”

A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney

“Well, yeah,” he said. “You’re good at this stuff. Just make it decent, alright? I don’t want to be embarrassed in front of everyone.”

“Decent?” I repeated.

“Yeah, just don’t go overboard or anything. Keep it classy.”

You see the entitlement here? See the way he thinks he deserves a birthday party while knowing how he’d hurt me with his words last time?

Honestly, I didn’t want to agree, but I decided to give him another chance. After all, it was his birthday, and I wanted to make it special even if he didn’t deserve it.

A close-up shot of a woman's eyes | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

For the next two weeks, I threw myself into planning Todd’s “big, proper birthday dinner.” If he wanted classy, I’d give him classy.

I drafted an impressive menu that had spinach-stuffed chicken, rosemary potatoes, a charcuterie board with cheeses I couldn’t pronounce, and a three-layer chocolate cake that would be the pièce de résistance.

Every day after work, I’d come home, tie my hair up, and get to work cleaning, organizing, and prepping. I even borrowed extra chairs and a folding table from our neighbor, Janice, just to make sure everyone would have a seat.

Todd’s contribution? Absolutely nothing.

A woman cleaning the house | Source: Pexels

A woman cleaning the house | Source: Pexels

“I’m swamped at work,” he said one night, kicking off his shoes and plopping onto the couch. “But you’ve got this, babe. You’re good at these things.”

Good at these things? I was so tired I could’ve cried.

But instead of snapping, I smiled and said, “Yeah, I’ve got this.”

The day of the party finally arrived.

I woke up early, determined to make everything perfect.

A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney

The house was spotless. The table was set with matching linens and little name cards I’d handwritten. The appetizers were chilling, the main courses simmering, and the cake was decorated with edible gold flakes.

Yes, I went that far.

Todd strolled into the kitchen around noon, scrolling through his phone as usual. He barely glanced at the spread I’d laid out.

“Looks good,” he muttered as he opened the fridge to grab a soda.

“Looks good?” I repeated, half-joking but half-hoping he’d notice the effort I’d put in.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah,” he said, shutting the fridge door. Then, like it was no big deal, he added, “But hey, uh, don’t bother finishing all this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m heading to the bar with the guys to watch the game instead. Cancel everything. Tell everyone something came up.”

“You’re ditching your own birthday dinner?” I asked. “Todd, I’ve been planning this for weeks!”

“It’s not a big deal, Claire,” he shrugged it off. “Just call everyone and tell them we’re busy or something. They’ll understand.”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

“They’ll understand?” My voice rose. “Todd, people are already on their way! You told me to make this decent and now you’re leaving?”

“I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the guys,” he said, ending the conversation.

Then, he grabbed his jacket and walked out of the door.

“You can’t do this, Todd!” I shouted, but he’d already left.

I was so heartbroken. I’d poured my heart, soul, and savings into this dinner, and he just walked out like it was nothing.

A woman looking outside the window | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking outside the window | Source: Midjourney

Cancel everything? After all the work I’d done?

But more than anything, I felt humiliated.

How could he treat me like this? How could he brush off all my efforts as if they didn’t matter?

I stared at the table while the candles flickered mockingly.

Is this what you’re worth, Claire? I asked myself. Is this how you’ll let Todd treat you? No. You can’t do this.

At that point, I decided I wouldn’t cancel the dinner. I won’t allow him to make me feel bad again.

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

If Todd wanted to act like a spoiled brat, I’d let him, but not without showing him what “embarrassing” really looked like. He had no idea who he was messing with.

I grabbed my phone and sent a group text to all the guests:

Party’s still on! Change of plans. Meet us at the bar on the main street near our place. Bring your appetite!

Then, I got to work.

I packed all the food and loaded it into the car. Then, I drove straight to the bar Todd had mentioned.

A woman driving | Source: Pexels

A woman driving | Source: Pexels

When I arrived, the place was already buzzing with noise. I looked around and spotted Todd sitting at a table with his buddies, his back to the door. He was completely oblivious to my presence.

“Uh, ma’am? Can I help you?” the bartender asked with wide eyes after noticing the trays of food I was carrying.

I flashed him my sweetest smile. “Oh, I’m just here to share a meal with some people who’ll actually appreciate it.”

A woman standing in a bar | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a bar | Source: Midjourney

I picked a table near the bar, in full view of Todd’s group, and began unpacking dish after dish. The aroma of the food quickly caught everyone’s attention. Patrons nearby craned their necks to see what was going on.

“What’s this about?” one man asked, gesturing toward the feast I was setting up.

I raised my voice just enough to carry across the room. “Oh, this was supposed to be my husband’s birthday dinner. But he decided to ditch me and come here, so I thought, why let all this food go to waste?”

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

The room erupted in murmurs and laughter, and a few people even clapped. That’s when Todd finally turned around and spotted me.

He immediately stormed over while his buddies murmured amongst themselves.

“Claire! What the hell are you doing?” he hissed, his eyes darting nervously between me and the growing crowd.

I didn’t even look at him.

Instead, I addressed the nearest group of patrons. “You like ham? Help yourselves! There’s cake coming too.”

A close-up shot of food in a plate | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of food in a plate | Source: Pexels

Just as Todd sputtered out another protest, the front door swung open, and in walked his parents, my parents, his sister, and our cousins.

They looked at us, then at the food, and then at all the people munching on what was supposed to be a formal dinner.

Todd’s mom, bless her bluntness, walked right up to him. “What’s going on, Todd? Claire said to meet here for your birthday dinner, but why is she serving food in a bar?”

An older woman | Source: Midjourney

An older woman | Source: Midjourney

Todd looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

“Uh, it’s complicated, Mom,” he muttered.

“Oh, I’d love to explain!” I intervened. “Todd decided that watching the game with his friends was more important than the dinner he demanded I plan. So, I brought the dinner to him!”

His dad shook his head. “How disrespectful,” he muttered.

Meanwhile, my mom grabbed a plate and said, “Well, the food smells amazing. Let’s eat!”

A woman in a bar | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a bar | Source: Midjourney

Soon, both our families joined the other patrons and dug into the feast I’d worked so hard on.

And Todd’s friends? They were still laughing at his expense and told him they’ll never forget this day.

By the time I brought out the cake, the bar felt like a full-blown party. On top of the cake, in bold frosting letters, I had written:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SELFISH HUSBAND!

The bar erupted in laughter when I read it aloud, but Todd wasn’t too happy about that.

A man laughing | Source: Pexels

A man laughing | Source: Pexels

“Was this really necessary, Claire?” he muttered under his breath.

I tilted my head, smiling sweetly. “Absolutely.”

Once everyone was done, I started packing up the empty trays. That’s when the bartender stopped me.

“Ma’am, you’re a legend,” he said. “Drinks on the house if you ever come back. Without him, of course!”

I chuckled. “Thank you! I’ll definitely drop by sometime.”

The families didn’t stick around long after the food was gone. My dad gave me a proud nod as he left, while Todd’s mom told him he could’ve done better.

An older woman speaking to her son | Source: Midjourney

An older woman speaking to her son | Source: Midjourney

As we drove back home, Todd kept muttering about being “humiliated.” Once we were back, he protested even more.

“Claire, you humiliated me in front of everyone!” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

“No, Todd,” I shot back. “You humiliated yourself. And for the record, don’t expect another homemade meal anytime soon.”

He knew he couldn’t argue with me at that point. He just turned around and stormed off to the bedroom.

A doorknob | Source: Pexels

A doorknob | Source: Pexels

It’s been two weeks since that night, and I kid you not, Todd has changed. Well, mostly.

His unrealistic demands have dialed down, and he’s been unusually polite, almost as if he’s afraid I’ll pull another stunt like that. He hasn’t apologized outright for ditching me, but his sheepish behavior says enough.

I guess now he knows I’m not the kind of wife who’ll roll over and take his nonsense anymore. If nothing else, that’s a win in my book.

A woman standing by a window | Source: Pexels

A woman standing by a window | Source: Pexels

What would you have done if you were in my shoes?

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: My entitled husband booked first class for himself and his mom, leaving me in economy with the kids. But I wasn’t going to just sit back. I made sure his “luxury” experience had a little turbulence, turning his flight into a lesson he won’t forget.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*