becoming a wanker 101

I don't know how it happened but it happened - I have become a wanker. A certified, 100% suburban wanker.

Back in my days of working in a high-rise without a (real) care in the world, I would have shuddered at the thought of what I have become. But now I am here, I don't really mind.

I can think of three ways in which I display my new-found wankerdom:

1. My Car. Here is the truth. If you live in the suburbs you DON'T need a four-wheel-drive. They guzzle petrol (thereby contributing to stuffing up the environment), they are more dangerous to pedestrians and other cars than smaller cars and somehow, drivers of these things seem more arrogant on the road.

I live in East Victoria Park. It has bitumen roads and curbs. Perhaps a speed bump here or there. But nice, flat, inner-city driving conditions for the most.

But somewhere, in the hormone-driven frenzy of my first pregnancy, I decided that I needed a big, fat, kick-arse car to protect my soon-to-be-born child. So out the window went my ideals and desire for a fuel-efficient, zippy little car.

And into the driveway came a new (well, second-hand) four-wheel drive. To give myself a little credit, it is more a station wagon on steriods and not that big, but it is still a four-wheel drive and I still only use it to drive to the Park Centre and perhaps to Carousel, Garden City or on occasion, the Perth CBD or Ikea.

I am a wanker.

2. Baby Cappucinos. Before I had kids I thought people who bought their children Baby Caps at cafes were the most wanky, pretentious wannabes in town. But guess what? I now go out to cafes and get the boy a baby cap.

It enables me to sit still for five minutes and enjoy my cap while he thinks he is important and spoons his gold-plated froth and cocoa powder into his mouth. Yes, that is right, I pay $3.00 for a tiny bit of crappy milk froth - for the same amount I could probably get two litres of fresh milk from Coles.

But it is not the milk I am paying for, it is the peace and quiet. And for that I have no apologies. But I do admit, it is bloody wanky. I am a wanker.

3. Investments. In my early twenties, a few of my friends started borrowing silly amounts to purchase investment properties.

I found this terribly suburban and wanky, and found my lifestyle of going on expensive trips to the US and Europe, buying nice clothes and generally partying my money away much more appealing. After all, I had a better job and would make it up in the end.....right?

Ah no. Unless you live under a rock (or not in Australia) you would have heard how Perth property prices have skyrocketed in the last few years.
Absolute crazy times - have made my friends rather rich. As for my great, high-paying job - I, um, gave it up to have a baby! So now it pays bugger all.

Not that it is a competition - I don't care how much I have compared to my friends but I like to think I will have enough to support the kids as they get older (and ourselves in retirement).

So the husband and I finally remortgaged to get ourselves a share portfolio. It is absolute small-fry compared to the buckets of dough our friends have made but now we too our investors and talk wank like dividends and growth at dinner parties. I cringe to think how suburban I sound. Yes I am a wanker.

So there you have it, I am a certified wanker. I can see it creeping into other areas of my life too - I only eat organic, free-range eggs now and I am considering a private education for my kids, although my public education did me just fine.

I don't know what is scarier - becoming such a tosser, or my not really giving a toss!