When we were invited to an old college friend’s wedding, my husband Max snapped, “I’m not going!”
The plan was simple: he’d take the kids out while I attended alone.
After getting my hair and makeup done, I came home to change—only to find my car and the wedding gift gone.
The kids said their dad had rushed off after a phone call.
That’s when it hit me.
He’d taken my car and gone to the ceremony.
I was furious. Embarrassed. Hurt.
But then I remembered one detail Max didn’t know.
You see, my car wasn’t just my car. It was still registered in my name—and I’d recently installed a new tracking app and remote lock after someone tried to break into it a month earlier. I hadn’t told Max yet. I hadn’t needed to.
So while he was busy making a dramatic entrance at a wedding he swore he wouldn’t attend, I opened my phone.
Thirty minutes later, my phone rang.
Max was shouting.
“WAS THIS YOU?! HOW DID YOU MAKE MY CAR JUST… SHUT DOWN?!”
Turns out, I’d waited until he was halfway through the reception, parked in front of everyone, keys out, confidence high…
and then I remotely disabled the engine.
Guests were staring.
The valet was confused.
The bride’s brother was annoyed because Max’s car was blocking the entrance.
I calmly told him, “That’s what happens when you steal someone else’s car.”
There was a long silence. Then he said, very quietly, “Can you turn it back on?”
I said I would—after he apologized to me, returned the gift, and left the wedding immediately.
He did all three.
When he came home, humbled and red-faced, I reminded him that marriage isn’t about control, jealousy, or embarrassment. It’s about respect.
He never took my car without asking again.
And he never told me “I’m not going” like that again either.
Some lessons stick better when they’re learned publicly.
