Remember Friends? Well, imagine the gang doing the same thing, but with their small children (who have likely never heard the word "no") running around, squealing at frequencies that make dog's cringe, and you've just pictured the scene this morning at Irwin's. I think my Bobo neighbors love their children, but aren't really willing to see their lives and habits changed for them (except in ways that are "enriching" and "rewarding"). So long weekend mornings lingering at the coffee shop aren't cut back; the coffee shop instead becomes a playground for a couple of hours and we call it "community." It takes a village, you know—especially if the Bobos are going to continue to feel entitled to having it all. They have lattés to sip before filing back into their SUVs, after all.
(Honestly, it doesn't bother me so much and is occasionally kind of cute. My self-centeredness just happens to be colliding with theirs.)
I keep fighting with the feeling that I've completely screwed up my life.