This has been the non-stop chant of my daughter, the Demon Child for the past several months. It seems that she has had enough of West Vancouver – really?! Okay, so my son, the Obnoxious One, was pretty much the same during the latter part of Grade 12. But after spending his first year at university – which he loved, almost too much – in Ontario during a mild, wimpy winter, he appreciated the charms of West Vancouver much more upon his return last summer. And way back in the dinosaur ages, I seem to recall being desperate to get out of the small blue-collar town I grew up in. So yeah, a normal rebellious teenage thing.
However, the Demon Child takes the whining, complaining, and yes, temper tantrums to a whole new level, as in:
- Why on earth did you choose to live in West Van with this terrible rainy weather? – because we prefer rain to ice and snow
- Why would you ever decide to raise children in West Van with all this mindless consumerism and endless consumption? – consumerism if a fact of modern first world life, and how much you chose to do is up to you and me since I control the money
- How could you ever send me to private school in West Van with all the fake, money-oriented kids with their vacuous, inauthentic moms? – because you have ADHD and needed the extra resources provided in that setting, besides you meet interesting people wherever you go
- How could you send to me to boarding school with all those wealthy douche-bags? – you were the one who wanted to go there in the first place darling
- How could you ever marry a man that represents oil companies? – there are tons of worse things he could do but that’s the subject of a whole other blog post
Perhaps one day she will appreciate the benefits of life here in the Pacific Northwest, but I’m not holding my breath. And in the meantime, I will admit that my watching the Real Housewives of Vancouver with its bevy of long haired, glamorous, over-the-top women only adds fuel to the fire – three live on the North Shore after all –
Still, I figure, warts and all, there’s no place like home.
But maybe I should say, Botox, plastic and all, there’s no place like home.