This morning I read an article about towns that were considered “bubbles”.  I wasn’t surprised to see my town on the list.  My family always jokes about living in a bubble.  It’s very similar to Stephen King’s “Under the Dome”.  When we cross over to the “real world” I hear Dorothy’s voice in my head saying “Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore”.  When you enter our town, once you make it through the screening process you must walk through a de-contamination area to ensure you have not brought anything back with you from outside the bubble.  That is the reason our taxes are so high, we need to pay for all of the guards, the filtration system and upkeep of the bubble walls.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy being in the bubble.  However, I do wonder what it will do to my children when they go to live outside the bubble someday.  When they realize everything isn’t handed to them and you need to work and save to get what you want.  I grew up outside the bubble and worked hard to get in, I know what non-bubble life is like but all my children know is bubble.  Sometimes it doesn’t feel real where we live.  My children don’t often see what “real” is.  Where some people smoke, don’t eat organic food, cut their own grass and have never heard of Vineyard Vines.  All they see are women in tennis skirts driving expensive cars.  I was quite shocked actually when a tennis skirt was included in my welcome package.  I’m not a tennis skirt type of girl so I gave it to my husband, he has better legs than I do.