Life in snoburbia
That's pronounced "SNOB-burbia." As in obnoxious affluent people with an entitlement attitude, helicopter parents, and 7-year-olds playing lacrosse, learning kung fu, and chatting on their cellphones. This lady lampoons the lifestyle and culture as her hobby. Which I find pretty funny, since I too now live in a snoburbia (though I am not OF snoburbia and never will be if I can help it).
I am more of a mislocated Germanic Yankee Puritan-hillbilly-curmudgeon, a product of a very uncool rural lower-middle-class suburb of the 1950s (think "A Christmas Story") and a middle-middle-class bedroom-commuter California suburb of the 1960s (think "Poltergeist"). Consequently I am both too old and too much of an inbred perverse-reverse-snob to be a part of the flock of trendy young snobs in the well-off affluent suburbs in which we have lived since having kids. (After all, I do iron all my husband's dress shirts, do my own housework and yardwork--not "gardening"--and have never had a professional manicure!) We live in snoburbia now for the schools, of course--where my husband's hobby is counting all the BMWs and Mercedes around here under his breath, and where my kids specialize in surviving the shadows cast by snoburbian teenagerdom.
Surviving snoburbia creates character! Experiencing snoburbia is an American blessing! Reading about snoburbia makes me laugh. Too true.