You know what’s worse than grown children still living at home and contributing absolutely zilch? Stepchildren doing just that, without any familial guilt trip attached to them. For one man burdened with the unenviable task of playing reluctant patriarch, abandoning ship seemed the only sane option. Buckle up for his tale of woe and real estate upheaval.
Our protagonist had been swallowed by the relentless tide of domestic chaos after his wife passed away in the bleak winter of November 2022. Left behind were three adult stepchildren who treated him with the warmth typically reserved for door-to-door salesmen. Despite a decade of his futile attempts to cement a paternal bond, they made it clear: ‘Not the dad,’ they chanted, their biological father having conveniently jetted off to the Philippines.
At 21, 22, and 25 years old, these delightfully independent minds still had the moral fiber of unlicked envelopes. Once united under a common roof, they’d initially been nudged into autonomy with the aid of some good old parental guidance. Financial independence, however, was Kyberian science fiction to them.
Here’s a brief financial casualty report: the youngest is allegedly ‘studying,’ a euphemism for channel surfing through higher education, while the other two collect salaries from unknown employers. Yet, since their mother’s vacant lot in the cemetery began to cool, they’d ceased all household contributions faster than the last season of your favorite TV show. Rent? Who needs rent when the bank of ‘not-the-dad’ covers utilities, groceries, and any enemy incursions from the domestic cleanliness front?
The once bustling home transformed into a retirement home for clutter and confusion. Faced with a dust-ridden battleground and devoid of any assistance, our man had to employ a cleaning lady. How absurd! His home, a sanctuary for family dreams, became a fortress of lethargy.
Desperation led him to sell the house, an asset which thankfully had soared in value, proving divine providence still had a part-time job. Perhaps he could join the original daddy in the Philippines for some well-deserved boat-lounging.
The house sold swiftly, effectively sealing what should be canonized as the ‘Great Escape.’ Next stop: his secluded cabin, free from the haunting aroma of freeloaders and unshared bills.
“Raise your hand if your parents gave you $10k when you moved out? No hands? You’ve successfully amputated from the leech colony.”
“They disrespected you and your home; now, you’re not required to keep supporting them after becoming adults.”
With the clarity of someone who’s finally swapped blurry glasses, he reflects on the saga. Having waited nearly two years for responsibility to miraculously dawn on them, it was evident these pseudo-adults lacked that spark. Instead, they basked in the glow of zero rent expectations, oblivious that the gig had its curtains.
Guilt weighed in like an uninvited guest. Wasn’t it enough paying for their housing, their sustenance, even their social callings? It seemed that those who expected everything forgot that they were, physical age notwithstanding, grown-ups.
What if they’d merely picked up a broom or waved a polite thank you now and then? If they’d just occasionally exhibited a semblance of resourcefulness, perhaps selling the house wouldn’t be on the blueprint of a retiree’s revenge fantasy.
“Your wife would be disgusted by how her kids freeloaded like unwelcome guests on your couch.”
Indeed, another reader shared their chronic tale of familial freeloading, where laziness was as contagious as the flu. These shared narratives of blood and bond curdling at the empty responsibility were like chapters from a how-not-to book of adulting.
Manhood demands no syllabus, and accountability knows no relation by marriage, meaning our narrator – liberated from the ‘dad’ hat – owed them the grand total of nothing.
In a world where traditional families often leave a breadcrumb trail of vouchers and warm familial fuzzies, blended ones star in a comedy of errors that the best sitcoms dare not write. When support dwindles into entitlement, sometimes the only path to sanity is an ejector seat straight to financial independence.
So, he embarks on a solo act, financially lighter and spiritually enriched, while his stepkids grapple with the harsh reality of adulting. To them, an open world awaits as merciless and demanding as a script downplayed to prequel-level expectations. If anything, surviving the gauntlet might finally encourage them to start renting maturity, even fractionally so.
Karen’s Verdict
In the grand drama of escaping unwanted tenants by default or divorce, a swift house sale just might be the dramatic twist required to recharge one’s joie de vivre. When faced with aimless adults, sometimes a real estate rollback isn’t an exit but a beginning. To the ungrateful and perpetually dependent: may your next act be riddled with orbits of responsibility you never thought existed!
