When I was wee tot, I lived in poverty. Around age six or seven, my mom met her second husband and waved goodbye to the outhouse and stovetop baths.
Before I left poverty, my mom and dad had racked up debt (mostly because of my dad) and I spent much of my time with my grandmother after their divorce. She was a humble lady content with the little she did and did not have.
Several of my family members ordered a lot of “stuff” from Fingerhut, JC Penny, and Sears catalogs. They amassed unnecessary debt and accumulated piles of junk. I wanted the junk too.
I thank my step-dad who gave me my first wise words of financial advice: most of the people with nice homes, new cars, and lots of stuff aren’t rich, they are in debt.
I didn’t get it.