My husband Clark really outdid himself this time. For our holiday trip to visit his family, he booked first class tickets—for himself and his mom—leaving me in economy with our two kids. “She needs to be comfortable,” he said. I was furious… but I had a plan.

At security, while he and his mom were distracted, I quietly slipped his wallet into my bag. Clark enjoyed first-class perks—gourmet meals, champagne—while I wrestled toddlers and pretzels in economy. Then came the bill. He reached for his wallet… and froze.

Pale-faced and panicked, he came back to economy to beg for money. I played it cool, handed him a little cash, and suggested he ask his mom for the rest. The look on his face? Priceless. The rest of the flight? Tense—for him.

When we landed, he was still hunting for his wallet. I smiled, knowing I’d made my point: next time, if he wants first class, he better book four seats—or none.