From Montana Money Adventures …
There were tears in my eyes. And I was begging my mom. “Let’s just leave. The baby, my little brother and you. We can just go. We will figure it out. I can get a job. I’ll help pay the rent. I think the little rooms above the grocery store rent for only $150 a month.” I was 12, and I thought it was a good plan. The man my mom had married years before had changed. Now he drank every day; all night long. The only words he could mutter to us were insults and slurs. Mostly he worked in the garage at night. It was like there was a rain cloud over our home. And I was done.
My mom was more logical than I was passionate. “I’m sorry.” She told me. “We can’t afford to leave. This is just the way it is. With three little kids and a minimum wage job, there is no way we will make it.”
I cried hot tears into my bed that night. That was my FI flashpoint.