Suddenly no one but the most slovenly and unambitious were satisfied with their houses. It didn’t matter if you lived in an apartment or a gated community, one episode of “House Hunters” or “What’s My House Worth?” and you were convinced you needed more. More square feet. More granite. More stainless steel appliances. More landscaping. More media rooms. More style. You deserved it.

I’ve been an apologetic HGTV junkie for years, despite my frustration at watching 20-somethings embark on their first house search with a list of expectations and requirements most people twice their age have long since learned to live without.  And comfortably.

Over and over, show after show, they offer the same tired phrases about master bathrooms that don’t cut it because they’re too small or don’t have the double basins essential to civilized living. Or the houses that get jettisoned from the list because they don’t have  dual offices or enough bathrooms to accommodate every family member. Or the cute little jokes about the walk-in closet being just adequate for her clothes and shoes.

It’s an entitlement mentality, the same one evidenced on TLC’s “Say Yes to the Dress,” where 24-year-old schoolteachers try mightily to keep to a $5,000 budget for a strapless wedding gown.  Or the penchant of middle-school girls — whose  “income” derives from the occasional babysitting job — for luxury leather goods.

Where did it come from? Maybe the Journal is right. Let’s blame HGTV or E! or the hundreds of other outlets that so relentlessly traffic in reports of excess that we all begin to think it’s our rightful due.

Somewhere along the way, the average Jane or Joe decided if it – granite counter tops, a $50,000 wedding, a palacial home — was good enough for celebrities, hereditary royals and other rich folk, it was good enough for them. Whether they could afford it or not. After all, that’s what 100 percent financing and hefty credit card limits are for, right?

As best as I can determine, the Age of Entitlement arrived  some time in the 1990s.  Until then, a middle-class kid still knew their limits. Even the wealthy were content with laminate counter tops and a beater car for getting back and forth to high school.

For a real eye-opener, check out  Ordinary People, the 1980 Academy award-winning film about  dysfunctional family  life in the upscale suburb of Lake Forest. The wealthy lifestyle depicted is modest by today’s standards. Really, really modest.

Sure, the streets are manicured and the family home imposing, but the kitchen isn’t much different than the one in my working-class parents’ house and the furnishings lack today’s upscale design aesthetic.

The tax attorney father goes for his morning jog in standard-issue sweats, not $75 anti-microbal, moisture-wicking Elastene running pants. And his high school son knocks around in plaid shirts, ratty sweaters and no-name jeans.

Clearly, the definition of “the good life” has change radically in the last generation and along with it, the expectations of every man, woman and child in America — expectations fueled by HGTV, if Sollisch has it right.

But as foreclosure rates spiral one thing seems certain:  House Hunters and those other HGTV offerings may be reality shows,  but the life they depict is far from realistic.