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Do you owe your parents for the cost of your upbringing?

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RogueScholar

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I had this discussion today at Peep's, thought maybe it might fly here.

Personally, I say no. You didn't ask to be born, thus the costs of your childhood are entirely your parents', it's God's way of making sure they pay for the sex they're having. You can't be held accountable for something you only took part in as a spectator.

Now, I'm not saying that if you grow up feeling your parents did right by you, that you shouldn't take care of them when they get kinda useless. By all means, if you genuinely want to give back, then you should. Just because we are not obligated to do something doesn't mean it isn't a good idea. But I take issue with the people who say that we are obligated to take care of our parents, irrespective of how they acquitted themselves as guardians of our youth and innocence.

What say you?
 
Not obligated but like you said, if they did you right (provided you with a solid moral foundation, prepared financially for your college education etc etc) than it's most likely the right thing to do if they're in need as the obstacles of old age begin to set in.
 
We're all responsible for taking care of ourselves, if you ask me. If you can't make it on your own anymore, then marry a needy rich person or die in whatever way seems best to you.

I was having drinks with a friend the other night, and we were talking about marrying for money. My friends grandfather has been married 5 times and each time was for money. He gets married, gets divorce, and then gets going away money.
 
We're all responsible for taking care of ourselves, if you ask me. If you can't make it on your own anymore, then marry a needy rich person or die in whatever way seems best to you.

If you can't make it on your own just live with less. I've done it before.

I felt more "free" when I was living in a rooming house with no car and had no bills to pay.
 
Oh yeah, possessions are totally an instrument of slavery. The more you choose to live with the more you have to work to keep it all going. I have a comfortable life now that doesn't require a ton of work, but on the happiness scale it's orders of magnitudes worse than the summer I spent homeless in Portland sleeping in my car and cooking small batches of meth to keep some money in my pocket. That was real living, I was never more alive.