I remember it like it was yesterday.
My 16th birthday rolled around, and I had modest expectations—maybe a new bike or a gift card to Circuit City (this was the early 2000s, after all).
But Dad?
Oh no, Dad had to go all out.
Instead of a bike, he handed me the keys to Dominic Toretto’s 1970 Dodge Charger R/T. You know, THE Charger—700 horsepower of muscle, raw power, and, most importantly, family sentimentality.
But, as fate would have it, my dad doesn’t believe in peaking too early.
For my 17th birthday, the Charger became yesterday’s news.
I woke up to find a bow not on a car but on an 11,000-square-foot estate.
A sprawling colonial-style mansion, complete with a tennis court, indoor theater, and a pool so large it had its own lifeguard.
“Well,” Dad said, shrugging modestly, “you’re getting older. Thought you’d appreciate having a place to host prom.”
Sylvester Stallone’s daughters must know the feeling.
A $25 million Hamptons estate? Pfft.
I mean, at least throw in a helipad or an underground bunker!
If your dad doesn’t set your real estate portfolio rolling by age 18, does he even love you?
I remember thinking,
“This 11,000-square-foot house is nice, but where’s the secret passageway? The art gallery? Does this even have a chef’s kitchen?”
But Dad assured me that it was “just the starter home,” a training wheel mansion, if you will, to prepare me for the real estate juggernauts later in life.
I sometimes think back and laugh at how hard Dad worked to top himself every year.
The Charger was replaced by a yacht when I turned 18 (I still hadn’t learned how to parallel park).
The mansion got traded in for a castle by 21, complete with a moat and drawbridge. And yet, somehow, I managed to turn out so grounded.
So to the Stallone daughters: cherish this first Hamptons mansion.
Sure, it’s not an Aspen ski chalet or a Monaco penthouse, but it’s your starter estate.
And someday, when you’re ready, Daddy will upgrade you to something with a private island attached.
Because nothing says “I love you” quite like a climate-controlled wine cellar.
Oh, and if you don’t have a Toretto-style Dodge Charger yet, let me know. I’ll talk to Dad about letting you borrow mine.
