Her response would be something like this:
Oh I’m so sorry Mr. Mighty Man. How dare I let the stress of taking care of three small children all under the age of 8 get to me. How dare I get frustrated with the responsibilities of cleaning the house and doing laundry which includes YOUR clothes. I realize I should be sitting here with the kids nicely dressed with your gourmet fucking dinner on the table because my stress and work is nothing compared to what you do at your job. How careless of me to let my emotional fatigue and stress inconvenience your well-deserved rest since your money makes it possible for me to stay home. I should be grateful to you and make sure you never have to realize how much work I actually do or what kind of toll it takes on me. I’m so fucking sorry you can’t tell your work people that your evening consisted of sex on a bear skin rug but instead the debris of a stressful day. You probably would have been crying in frustration about six hours ago so thanks for your lack of appreciation and sympathy. Here take the kids, make your own damn food, I’m going out with my friends. Jack ass.