Fraternal economy

Have you ever felt like each of your children lives in a completely different socioeconomic stratum than you do?

Because I have.

As a responsible parent, you try to convince yourself of "equitable, balanced, and fair parenting"... until you check your bank account and discover three completely different lifestyles coexisting under the same roof. That's when you seriously wonder if you're mismanaging your finances or if your house is officially a developing country with three distinct internal economic systems.

I confirmed this with something as simple as ordering drinks at a restaurant.

It was Sunday. My husband, fulfilling his role as a modern husband and ally of maternal rest, decreed that "Mom isn't setting foot in the kitchen, not even to see if it's clean." So he took us to a well-known Italian restaurant.

We sat down. The waiter arrived. And he asked the obligatory question:

—What would you like to drink?

The eldest daughter, a faithful representative of asceticism and emotional and financial minimalism:

—Plain water, thank you.

The middle child, with a refinement acquired who knows where:

—Lemonade, please.

And the youngest, without hesitation, without looking at prices and without remembering that he lives in a household economy:

—Coca-Cola, water, and a milkshake. That's all.

Excuse me... what?

Of course. Because this child thinks we're at an all-inclusive resort on some paradisiacal Mexican beach. I eliminated one drink, not out of authority, but for the sake of the global economy.

Then came the food, and in a burst of false parental democracy, we allowed everyone to order whatever they wanted.

I went home convinced that it had all been an illusion, like those promises of stability that some governments sell us.

But no; I went into each of their rooms... and then I couldn't deny it anymore.

They effectively live in different countries, with very poorly distributed economic policies.

🚩🦈The Eldest: Scandinavian First World

Order. Austerity. Responsibility. Her room is an ode to meticulousness: everything in its place, a few carefully selected photos, cushions perfectly coordinated with the sheets and blanket,

a bookshelf filled with dictionary-sized books, curated by herself, that scream "financial maturity."

Furniture with simple lines and neutral colors made of natural or laminated materials.

The paint is exactly the same as when we moved into the house.

Why change it if it brings peace; an unnecessary expense... and she knows it.

Developed, stable, solid economy, without surprises, highly competitive.

💖🎶The Middle Child: Developing country with flashes of brilliance

Personalization. Glamour. Awareness

The middle child's room looks like a backstage of an international tour: Sequin outfits in front of a full-length mirror with lights. Hair and makeup tools I never imagined existed, all on a cart that can be wheeled around the house. Two or three specialized books on her hobbies, because there's no room for improvisation here. And photographs only of her and her friends.

The sofa-style bed that was custom-made, specially cut by her father.

A lilac-colored wall, officially approved by her at the age of four.

Nothing is superfluous. Everything shines.

Developing economy, with visible wealth, strategic spending, and a lot of personality.

💎The Youngest: Free market, unlimited inheritance, and a high standard of living

Freedom, Maximalism, and autonomy

And finally... the youngest.

A bed inherited through four generations, with details in the wood and repairs that God knows were innovative in their time.

A door covered in stickers, arranged according to a criterion only he understands.

Two bookshelves full of magazines, notebooks, school papers, activity books, and any object that has ever existed, been collected, or approved by his self-taught mind.

Toys, Legos, cardboard boxes, emerging from unknown corners and dimensions. Which he doesn't allow to be destroyed, even if no one understands their form or they might be considered trash by some inexperienced person. There's no such thing as aesthetics here... there's only maximalism, a version of it using repurposed toys, boredom, and free intergenerational exchange.

Conclusion

No matter how much a parent wants to deny it, the amount of inheritance the youngest child receives is inexplicable, unstoppable, and immeasurable.

It doesn't matter their gender, personality, or preferences; being the youngest will always mean living in a privileged world, while the rest of us finance the infrastructure, the economic bailouts... and the emotional taxes.

Sincerely,

Isabella of the Faded House

────────── A Lineage That Dissipates ──────────