Helicopter parenting. Sounds like: Something Richie Rich has; awesome.
“HAVE YOU KIDS FINISHED YOUR HOMEWORK?”
“GREAT – THEN GRAB THE ROPE LADDER AND HANG ON UNTIL YOU SEE LAND!”
Is actually: Something that involves zero helicopters.
White flight. Sounds like: a beautiful and arduous migration from Iceland to New Zealand that millions of Caucasian families undertake every year, blotting out the sun with the rush of beating wings as they return to their ancestral breeding grounds.
Is actually: Plagued with the same problem as “helicopter parenting” inasmuch as white people do not actually have the capability of flight; a depressing series of demographic shifts resulting in de facto segregation.
Mommy wars. Sounds like: a succession of desert raids between strong-armed, wild-eyed women commanding mechanized spider armies and booby-trapped uteruses. Umbilical prime ministers secretly poison precious breast-milk supplies and fathers are traded as currency.
Is actually: a bunch of parents arguing on internet message boards.
Man cave. Sounds like: A network of subterranean tunnels covered in sinew and bone and facial hair, full of keen and quick-footed gentlemen of an ancient and deadly courtesy.
Is actually: A room any man keeps his stuff in.