My Husband Controlled Every Dollar I Spent and Demanded I Save – When I Discovered Where the Money Was Really Going, I Nearly Fainted

Our son Micah loved one specific cup—vanilla, with a green dinosaur on the lid.

Every time we passed it, he’d point and shout, “Rawr!” with his tiny hands curled like claws.

The last time I reached for it, my husband Michael slapped my hand away.

“He doesn’t need that, Florence,” he muttered. “We need to save.”

The way he said we, you’d think I wasn’t already stretching meals, hand-washing secondhand baby clothes, or skipping lunch so Micah and Nicole could have extra snacks later.

The control didn’t begin there. It never does.

When Nicole was born, Michael suggested I stay home.