Love Thy Neighbor ... even when they go on vacation for two weeks, don't answer their phone and let their adult children have free reign, which means ...
Love Thy Neighbor ... (and their adult children) when their washer hose bursts and floods your kitchen.
Love Thy Neighbor ... (and their adult children) when said flood necessitates a week of multiple industrial-sized (and industrial-sounding) fans occupying the kitchen and very small bathroom.
Love Thy Neighbor ... (and their adult children) even when aforementioned children REPEATEDLY turn off the air conditioning, even after the landlord turns it back on, then again after he leaves a note asking them to please leave the a/c alone. (Love them even more when you're 9 months pregnant and it's 100 degrees outside).
Love Thy Neighbor ... (and their adult children) even when the children utilize ALL of the extra parking during the periods in which they are there, doing who knows what.
Love Thy Neighbor ... (and their adult children) even when the children only show up after midnight, congregate noisily in the dining room (over our master bedroom) and have long, heated discussions long into the night.
Love Thy Neighbor ... (and their adult children) when they wake up the next morning and use all the hot water (we share a water heater) by taking long, luxurious showers.
Love Thy Neighbor ... (and their adult children) when those long, luxurious showers result in bathroom flooding this fine Saturday morning, because the shower curtain wasn't closed all the way and the large puddle ended up causing a wet bathroom ceiling and dripping for us.
Love Thy Neighbor ... (and their adult children) when the shower debacle results in needing yet ANOTHER fan in the bathroom (thankfully this one a small, much quieter one) for several days to dry out the ceiling.
Love Thy Neighbor ... (and their adult children) even when you KNOW they are home, because you can hear them, but repeated attemps to knock on the doors (front and back) fail to rouse them regarding leaky bathroom, air conditioning and mail.
Love Thy Neighbor ... (and their adult children) even when you haven't received any more mail than you can steal out of their mailbox (slot in the house) for two weeks, because the postman doesn't sort the basement mail and the children, even though they come nightly, don't bother leaving our mail on our stoop inside.
Love Thy Neighbor ... (and their adult children) even when you had high hopes of having wonderful neighbors, retired, quiet, considerate, but instead end up with hermits with grown children who repeatedly fail to remember the basement dwellers in the Hobbit Hole.
Love Thy Neighbor ... (and their adult children) ... but I'm having one heck of a time convincing myself that I can, indeed, love my neighbor. Right now, I confess I don't love them very much.
*sigh*
2 comments:
Dave just said, "Well, they will get theirs when the baby is crying all night because of their noise!"
Holy cow - I am so sorry I ever told you to take this place!
The baby's room is under their guest bedroom, though I have seriously considered moving the pack-n-play out into the living room (under their bedroom) for a few nights. *insert evil laugh*
Thing is, I LIKE living here. I just really, really, really don't like the neighbors. *sigh*
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