Kids These Days

We've heard the stories from our parents and grandparents: Walking uphill in the snow both ways to school, getting up to do 3 hours of chores before school, or spending every Saturday out in the 3 acre yard weeding by hand. Whatever the story is/was it seemed so lame and redundant. Fast forward to having kids that don't know how good they have it. The story I tell my kids most? I didn't get in an airplane until I was a Junior in High School and only then because I had a cheerleading competition in California and we worked REALLY hard to get there. My brother Taft? I think his first flight was to leave on his mission. (But don't feel too bad for him, he currently has more stamps on his passport than I care to list.)
Here's what I'm saying: Where did my kids and their expectations come from? Although we have been blessed to travel a decent amount, I swear we have been conscious to remind them that this is not what REAL life is like. We remind them that we work hard, sacrifice and save all the while appreciating the beautiful things that we are privileged to experience. But bring up a mom-and-dad-only trip and Cal acts like we've cut off his right hand. "What!? You're not taking ME?" It's taken me a year and a half of reminding him that he's the one that made the trip to Chicago and Notre Dame with Kirt (not me) and he's finally showing some restraint. He still cries, "What? Not Me?" - but nervous laughter follows and he says he's just kidding.
A few examples of our current entitlement issues...Cal was not entirely happy with our low-key Super Bowl plans yesterday. Once he received a better offer he asked if he could, "...just take a taxi" to the other party. He claims he was also "just kidding" but I've got a Benjamin that says if we would've agreed he would have jumped in the backseat of some skeevy driver's car without a glance back.
However, Cal isn't the only one in the family without realistic expectations...Tessa was very distraught on Friday afternoon, crying real tears. She was finally able to pull herself together enough to speak about her issue, "The green paint on the walls in here make me really nervous. I think it would be better if you would paint them pink." At first it was funny and I chalked it up to an overly-emotional-just-got-her-tonsils-out little girl but we are currently on day 4 of paint negotiations. She has backed down from her original position and is willing to settle for red if the pink cannot be accomplished. And I swear to you she is serious.
Anybody got any good stories about how hard life was when we were kids? I can use all the help I can get with these adorable punks!