The Lesson He Never Expected

That evening, at dinner, my father-in-law quietly pulled Eric aside. The next morning, Eric was oddly subdued—carrying diaper bags, making breakfast, trying too hard. Later, at a family dinner, when the waiter asked for drink orders, his dad looked him squarely in the eye and said, “He’ll have a glass of milk—he’s still learning to be an adult.” The table erupted in quiet laughter, and Eric turned crimson.

Two days later, my father-in-law told me privately he’d set up a trust for the twins—my share secure, Eric’s dependent on “personal growth.”

On our flight home, the gate agent informed Eric he’d been upgraded again. But when he opened the envelope, it wasn’t a seat—it was a prepaid hotel stay with a note from his dad: “Enjoy your priority reflection time.”

Eric looked at me sheepishly. “Any chance I can earn my way back to sit with you and the kids?”

I smiled, shifting our son on my hip. “That depends,” I said softly. “Does economy finally feel like home?”