Tuesday, March 25, 2008

While I'm at it...

Here's an open letter to my new neighbor.

Dear Sir (who walks his dog, among other activities to avoid his family),

Thank you so much for bringing my inadequate parenting to my attention. I truly appreciate it, as I mentioned when graciously closing my door this afternoon. I don't know whether I was more stunned that such a young man of your age was so prematurely bald or that you actually said that at last night's association meeting, my family was mentioned. How lovely to know that you all, in your many years of parenting (like three, tops?) have taken the time to comment (gossip) about me and my kids.

I really appreciate how you've gleened (on the few occassions that you ARE home to tend to your pregnant wife and baby... and dog) that you have noticed that I am "hardly ever" with my children. As I mentioned when you rang yesterday, I sit at a distance where I can see them. What that means is, you don't hover over kids, you let them play. Kids that have every action controlled tend to grow up to be balding weenies who are never home.

I failed to reciprocate my observations (critique masked as neighborly concern) by mentioning that YOU might want to spend your spare time with your wife. She looks like she is about to pop while chasing after your toddler who is still too cute to mock you and spit in your face despite all the love and smothering you shower on her. But I digress... your wife... she could probably use your help on your days off. You know, those days that you take off on your expensive ten-speed in your matching top and bottom bicycle outfit that shows... well... your "religion." And don't say I didn't warn you, but she smiles an awful lot when the mailman comes to do his "deliveries."

So, again, Mr. Weenie Balding Man, thanks sooo much for pointing out that my children ride their bikes without their mother hovering. It makes me realize that I may actually be doing it right this time.

Oh, and don't hesitate to call when those precious little kids turn all nasty-ass teenager on you. I've got some great sage advice. You know, the kind that comes from being a mom for twenty years. Yep... two-oh.


The Single Mom Across the Way

PS: I'll put those curtains up in my dining room just as soon as you bring them over as my new housewarming gift. Ciao!




We've lived in the same house-our first house- for over 12 years. We didn't even know the name of the lady across the street until recently. We just referred to her as "The Crazy Old Red-Head." My neighbors are all positive that it's HER narcing on us to the H.O.A to complain about our "unkempt" yards. Yeah, well she has a son who owns a landscaping company. Her yard should look good because he dispatches a team of guys to her house every week to maintain it.

And this is why our life dream is to move out to the middle of nowhere. In the suburbs your neighbor is close enough that you can practically piss into each others windows.

Steph said...

This? Has me fuming on your behalf. I am, simultaneously, admiring your restraint here because that? Would have turned me into a shrieking harpy which would only have given him more gossip fodder. What an asshat he is.

Anonymous said...

wow. Neighbors are such a pain sometimes. And clueless parents even more so.

Ah, his kids will grow up eventually and we'll sit back and laugh... (at which point he should come crawling to you and apologize...if not sooner.)