Brandon (25) had somehow graduated college two years earlier. I suspect money changed hands somewhere. He hadn’t worked a single day since. He was “building his brand” as a content creator. His TikTok had 247 followers. His Twitch streams had maybe three viewers at any given time, one of which was undoubtedly Tracy and another his alt account.
Sierra (21) was in her third year of college allegedly studying business. In reality, she mostly studied Starbucks orders and Instagram angles. Dad paid for her off-campus apartment near school—a place she barely stayed in because she’d rather be “home.” He paid for her car, which she’d crashed twice. He paid off her credit cards every month when she maxed them out on Shein hauls and Sephora.
My dad was 46, still working himself into ulcers running his consulting business.
Tracy was 43, sitting in my living room all day watching Real Housewives, taking selfies, and complaining about how tired she was.
And me? I worked part-time at Starbucks, did online classes, and did all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, and general emotional management of the household. I also tried to save money, because Tracy had started dropping hints about “contributing.”