The Beckhams and us

I read, with morbid curiosity, the news about the bad relationship between David and Victoria Beckham (the former footballer and the former Spice Girl) with one of his sons, BrooklynOn Instagram, the boy has shared several sad episodes, which I will now list.

First of all, his mother refused to design his future bride's wedding dress at the last minute. This isn't going to happen to me, because my daughter hasn't understood the influencer that I carry inside and only values me as an interior decorator and bargain hunter. Secondly, the guy, with all the wrong intentions, placed his nanny and the couple's nanny at the head table at the wedding, while their respective parents were at adjacent tables. This is really dirty. It's a way of saying, "Who took care of me?" Thirdly, his parents asked him to give up the rights to his name weeks before the wedding, and when he refused, there were "consequences" in his allowance. In other words, he had an allowance. One of these days I'm going to go and meet Beckhams, just in case they adopt me.

The situations described could be a literary genre, which we could call: "I'm rich but not rich." They are misfortunes, yes, but they can only happen in the context of millionaires. John F. Kennedy Jr., for example, made a "I'm rich but not rich" claim when he crashed into the sea, shattering his promise while on a weekend getaway in a small plane he was piloting. This, in this format, cannot happen to you. Eric Clapton lost his four-year-old son, who fell from the 53rd-floor window of the skyscraper where they lived. He was playing with the nanny while his mother reviewed the budget for the renovation of their Milan home, but the window cleaner left the window open. This, in this format, cannot happen to you.