Dear Neighbor: It's Me Again! May I Apologize?

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Manuel Faba Ortega / iStock

Dear Neighbor:

It’s me again.

Wow! It’s hard to believe we’ve been neighbors for eight months already! I’m saddened we haven’t been able to get to know each other better. You’ve been gone every time I’ve stopped by, so I hope you don’t mind my reaching out via these rambling notes. I feel like I just have to let you know why crazy things keep happening (and to once again ask if you might be free soon to grab a drink or come by for cake. I always have cake).

I was furious when I found out you didn’t get to enjoy the blueberry muffins I made for you. It makes sense now, why you looked at me oddly when I yelled from the car, that I’d hoped you’d enjoyed my little treat on your doorstep. I figured something happened so I quizzed my boys until my youngest admitted he and his brother ate them. He said they put the container on your porch, but since you weren’t home during the day, they spent the day coming and taking muffins when they got hungry. I did think it weird neither boy came in for lunch, but when you deal with these guys, you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth when they decide to spend the whole day outside! I’m sorry you only got the one muffin and it had a bite taken out. I’ll bring another batch this weekend myself.

It’s upsetting that the only time we cross paths in person is when something crazy happens! Like last week with our pets. I didn’t realize my dog had dug under our fences. When I heard your cat screeching (who knew cats could make a sound like that!), I rushed down to make sure he was OK. I swear I pulled my dog off your cat immediately. I didn’t even know he could hump anything anymore with his bad hip. I’m so sorry.

Speaking of the dog, he’s also the reason you had to see me in such a state of undress. He’d gotten into the trash, and well, I won’t gross you out with what he ate (I’m too sickened by the fact that he would even want to eat one of those), but it caused a very bad case of the runs. I’d spent the whole night getting up to take him out, so come morning, I was exhausted. I was showering when he began to claw at the door again, so I rushed him outside (he’d messed the carpets and even my robe enough) and as I was setting him down, my towel slipped off. Right then, he relieved himself—on my foot and my fallen towel—and that’s why when you came out onto your balcony I was naked, rubbing my feet on the grass and yelling, “Jesus Christ, please stop shitting on me!” It probably looked like some odd pagan dance ritual, I’m sure! Thanks for getting your kids back inside so quickly.

That leads to my apology for scaring your son. My kids discovered my closet has been my hiding place, so I needed a new place to go. The half-finished house next door has been a great refuge for me these past few months. As you saw, I set up camp—a chair, a little lamp, and a box of goodies (my kids also discovered my hidden stash of “good chocolate”)—and I sometimes hang out there after the workers are gone, relaxing with a magazine and some bubbly. I had no idea you would be bringing friends by who were interested in buying the house that night. I’ll be honest, I was so lost in my magazine, I didn’t hear you, which is why I screamed, “I have a gun!” when your son and his friend came in and threw my magazine at them. I feel wretched about making him cry. I really didn’t have a gun, and I’m sorry I scared him and your friends. I do hope they reconsider buying in our neighborhood! It would be great to have new neighbors with kids too.

My husband said maybe I gave the wrong impression in my last letter to you, where I talked about the alcohol we have. I understand if you don’t drink (OK, no I don’t—haha), and I wanted to let you know I make a mean mocktail too. Or just lemonade or water.

I’d really like to get to know you, and have you see we’re really normal people who would love to find some close friends to BBQ and play Pictionary with. I’ll keep the dog in his kennel, and I swear to you, my boys completely understand now that we have neighbors who can hear them screaming. Honestly, my son was totally fine the other morning. He’d simply forgotten his iPad and didn’t know I was in the shower, which was why he was screaming that he was “dying in there.” In reality, he just had to poop staring at the wall. Kids!

I hope to hear from you soon. Stop by anytime, and if I don’t answer, check the house next door!


Your Neighbor

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