Reality Sends the Bill

My spoiled son decided to kick me out of the house I paid for, the one I built

room by room while he grew up glued to screens and excuses. He said I was “holding him back,” said

he deserved everything now, not later. So one night, he changed the locks

and left my things in trash bags on the porch. I slept in my car. I worked double

shifts. I stayed quiet. Months later, the house went dark. Bills piled up,

the friends vanished, and the confidence cracked. He called me, angry at first,

then scared. The bank was taking the house. He had nothing saved, no plan,

no one left. I didn’t yell. I didn’t brag. I just said no. I bought a small