Member-only story
Someday, Kids, None of This Will Be Yours
My children will never be nepo babies

As we drove home from school, my youngest was chatting in a stream of non-sequiturs the way only thirteen-year-olds can when she announced that she wished she could be a nepo baby. I laughed, and she quickly added, “Don’t worry, Dad, you still have time. I believe in you.”
I laughed again because, with middle schoolers, it’s hard to tell the difference between sarcasm and earnestness.
I told my daughter that the only way she would ever be a nepo baby was if she decided to go into haiku comics, and then I could help her grow an audience of dozens with almost no effort. But her train of thought had already moved onto the mysteries of pop-star lyrics.

My train of thought remained stubbornly on the nepo baby track. When I was a young man, magazines and newspapers would frequently run articles about how much money we Gen-Xers would inherit when our boomer parents finally passed on.
Over time, as newspapers died and magazines became a mockery of their former glory, online stories began discussing how the Great Wealth Transfer was skipping Gen-X.