My parents encourage me to share my car with my sister because their family is supposedly poorer. At one time, my parents already gave them my dad’s old car, but the engine failed suspiciously fast, and my sister’s husband sold the car. What they spent the money on – no one knows. But they had a great summer vacation in Egypt.
My wife and I allow ourselves some trips much less often, because we have work, duties and goals. A car for me was also once a goal and a dream. And nothing, I saved up and bought, though not a new one, but a very good one. And now I have to lend it to my son-in-law so that he can go to his parents’ country house. Or so that he can take his children to a concert.
I’m jealous of my possessions. I don’t want anyone else to break my stuff. And knowing my sister’s motto, “my house is on the edge,” no one will fix my car for me. What can I say, my son-in-law has never put gas in it, although he borrowed it a couple of times and drove around on my gasoline for my money.
And my parents still have the conscience to ask me to do that, just like my sister. I try to move out, make up reasons why I can’t give, but I hear those reproachful notes in my voice and feel like I’m obligated to share. I set myself up with the idea that if they wanted, my son-in-law and sister could live a little frugally and buy their own car, but deep down I know that their only joy is to earn money and spend it right away. You don’t collect for anything like that. But still a car… I can’t stand giving it to my son-in-law.
