I’m 68 years old, widowed, and after decades of careful planning, my house is finally paid off.

My retirement fund is stable — not extravagant, just secure.

I’ve never been wealthy; I’ve only ever been steady.

I have two adult children. My daughter, 41, has a good job, yet she constantly complains that “life’s unfair” and expects help every time something goes wrong..

My son, 38, has never held a job longer than a year and still asks me to “lend” him money I know I’ll never see again.

For years, I kept saying yes — because I thought saying yes was the same as loving them.

But lately, I’ve realized something uncomfortable: sometimes,

what feels like love is actually enabling entitlement.

So when they started asking questions about inheritance — “You’ll leave us the house, right?” — I decided it was time to change the conversation entirely.

One Sunday at dinner, I set down my fork, looked at them both, and said calmly:

“You’ll both get your inheritance — when you’ve followed three simple rules.”

At first they laughed, assuming I was teasing. But the laughter stopped when they saw my expression.

Rule #1: Have one full year of living expenses saved.

 If you can’t manage your own finances, you’re not ready to manage mine.

Rule #2: No debt from choices you could control.

That means no gambling losses, no “get-rich-quick” schemes, and no credit card bills from vacations disguised as emergencies.

Rule #3: Give back before you get. Volunteer, mentor someone, donate — I don’t care how. Just show me you understand the value of what you have.

My son pushed his chair back and stormed out. My daughter glared at me and called me manipulative.

I stayed calm. “I’m not punishing you,” I told them. “I’m preparing you. Money should make you stronger, not softer.”

We didn’t speak for a while after that. Then, last month, my daughter texted me a photo: she’d completed a financial literacy course and had opened a savings account for her child.