Secrets of the Summit City

He’s 22. I work full time. I said no to being a full-time chauffeur, and now he’s sulking over cereal like I ruined his life. Fort Wayne parenting is not for the weak.

 

I live off St. Joe Center, near Georgetown Square, a quiet spot with good neighbors, too many squirrels, and just enough traffic to make left turns a gamble.

 

My son, Brandon, is 22. He’s living at home while “figuring things out,” which so far has looked like online courses, part-time hours at the Glenbrook Chick-fil-A, and a very serious Call of Duty career in the basement.

 

Back in July, he lost his license. Long story. I won’t air all of it here, but let’s just say the BMV and a Taco Bell drive-thru were involved.

I agreed to help him out short-term. “Until you get back on your feet,” I said. That was nearly four months ago.

 

Since then, I’ve been driving him to and from work five days a week, across town, through traffic, sometimes twice in the same day when he forgets his hat or asks if I can “swing by and drop off a smoothie.” I work full time at a dental office near Lutheran. My lunch hour is not a Lyft shift.

 

This week, I told him I couldn’t keep doing it. I suggested he start taking the bus. He said, and I quote:

 

“The bus is for people who don’t have support systems.”

 

Then he slammed a pantry door and didn’t talk to me for a day.

 

I’m not charging him rent. I pay his phone bill. I clean up after his late-night “meal preps,” which consist of cereal and three open jars of peanut butter. But apparently, I’m the problem now because I won’t sit in Coliseum traffic twice a day listening to him complain about how “boomers ruined the housing market.”

 

He told his sister I’m being “petty.” His sister, by the way, bought her own car with graduation money and a second job at Chaos Cakes & Treats.

 

I just want to drink my coffee, listen to Brooklyne on 97.3 WMEE, and not be accused of betrayal because I said the words “bus pass.”

 

So, Fort Wayne...

 

Am I the bad guy for setting a boundary with my grown son?
Is he entitled or just adjusting to adulthood at his own pace?
Or is this just modern parenting in the Summit City?

 

📬 Got a Summit Secret?

Whether it’s grown-kid drama, petty parenting payback, or a good old-fashioned family group chat fallout, we want to hear your side. You just might end up in next week’s Secrets of the Summit City.