At my son’s wedding in Seattle, the bride looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Starting tomorrow, you’re no longer part of this family. I’m the boss now—not you.” I smiled, walked away like it didn’t hurt, and canceled the $80,000 I’d promised for their first home—right there at the reception, while the music was still playing.

Daniel stood up.

“Mom, even if Amanda said something she shouldn’t have, canceling that payment puts us in a really bad situation. We already made an offer on a house. The down payment is due in two weeks.”

“How much was the deposit you already paid?” I asked.

“Three thousand,” he said.

“And where did that money come from?” I asked.

Daniel hesitated.

“My savings.”

“Your savings,” I repeated. “Not both of your money together. Not Amanda’s money. Yours?”

I looked at Amanda.

“So you’re using his money for deposits, but expecting my money for the big payment.”

Then I looked straight at her.

“Tell me, Amanda—what exactly are you putting into this marriage financially?”

Her face turned red.

“That’s none of your business, Mom,” Daniel said, and his voice sounded stressed. “This isn’t fair. Amanda and I are a team. That’s what marriage means.”