So, my son Jack was living large, flashing his Amex Gold card like it was a VIP pass to life. I thought I was helping when I canceled it. You know, teaching him a lesson in responsibility. But then something nagged at me. Had I just pulled the rug out from under him? What I learned next about Jack's life without that credit card was more than eye-opening—it was downright heartbreaking.
Jack's Amex Gold card was always warm from being swiped. He was living like a king, even if it was all on credit. Each month, the credit card company sent statements, and each month, I'd see the numbers rise like a thermometer on a hot day. I often wondered if he noticed, or if he believed the credit card carried no weight. It seemed like every purchase was an indulgence he couldn't pass up.
Whenever we went out, Jack treated the credit card like it was his magic wand. No cash, no problem; the card was always there. Dinners, clothes, even random knick-knacks—it didn't matter. "Check this out, Mom!" he'd say as he swiped again. In his mind, the card was bottomless, a never-ending source of joy. But I knew credit cards weren't magical. They bore responsibilities—responsibilities Jack was ignoring.