Those of you who read the ole blog on a regular basis are familiar with some of the neighbors by now. We have the elderly cat lady across the street, Mrs. D. There's Jack, the bachelor next door who has my children convinced that he grows Hostess cupcakes for them in his garden. The Browns a few houses down with two boys who are most likely the male counterparts to my angelic girls.
Tonight, I'd like to introduce you to the people who live in the house behind ours, Bonnie & David, and give you all an opportunity to share in the most recent instance where my children have completely mortified me.
This summer, we've spent quite a bit of time outside. Sometimes we spend all day swimming and jumping on the trampoline. Other days, we stay inside all day and come out to play after supper (aka 'Operation: wear these kids down for bed'). Despite the differences in our routine, one thing remains the same - my kids are loud and the neighbors never seem to mind the high pitched squeals or shrieks of "She hit me!" I love that about our neighbors!
Another thing that never fails? David always makes a point of poking his head over the fence and hollering "Hey! You kids are making an awful lot of noise out there!" He, like many a grown man, enjoys teasing the kids and the kids enjoy sassing him right back.
A few weeks ago, we spent all day playing out back and our Mister Neighbor was working on something in his back yard behind the privacy fence. Occasionally he would holler at the kids to keep it down, or spray them with his garden hose. Marlee, my diva, would yell with half disgust/half delight "That's not even funny, Old Man!" much to David's delight. Old men always love it when they can get a child riled up!
A bit later, he took off across the yard to go pick up his youngest granddaughter from her parents at the city swimming pool. Baby girl needed a break from the hot sun, and her grandparents were all too eager to have her to themselves for a while.
He'd left empty-handed and returned pushing a sweet baby in a double stroller. This had my Boo utterly perplexed...
"Hey! Old Man! Where did you get that baby?!"
"Where did you get that baby, Old Man?! Did you steal it?"
"I can't believe you stole a baby! OLD! MAAAAAN!"
After he and the baby were in the house, Mar began to question Granny and I about the baby. Of course we fed her a huge line of bullshit confirming that yes, it was a stolen baby. She was so mad (and so funny) and being huge jerks, we just kept going.
For the next couple of days, each time she'd talk about that Old Man stealing that little baby, we'd egg her on. "Get yourself back into bed or I'll tell the old man to come and steal you!" we'd say. "Is that old man nice?" she'd question us, partly afraid, partly suspicious of our words. "He's nice, he's just a baby-stealer so he's kind of creepy..." was my answer at one point.
Wrong answer, obviously. The next time we went out to play:
"Hey! You kids are makin' a lot of noise back there!" came a voice from behind the tall privacy fence.
"Old Man! You leave us alone! My mommy says you're creepy!" came my middle child.
Needless to say, we haven't heard from David in a few days.