Dear New Neighbor, Let Me Explain Why Our Household Seems Like A Hot Mess
Hello new neighbor, and welcome to the neighborhood. I wanted to apologize for not stopping by to say a proper hello and welcome. I feel terrible for being so rude. I saw you wave this morning, and I wanted you to know I was trying to wave back. Turns out, I hadn’t put the lid on my coffee mug correctly, and as I raised my hand (and coffee mug) to say hi, it spilled all over my lap. Ouch! That was why you only heard me drive by and exclaim, “Oh for f&ck’s sake, you’re an idiot!” That was not directed at you, but I understand how, with my window rolled down, me making eye contact and then belting that out, you would think it was directed at you. I was late to an appointment because the dog had decided to roll around in his sh*t that morning, which I had to clean up before leaving. I was frazzled, which explains why the lid was not tightly on my mug.
After this exchange, and the ones previously (blush), I thought I should write a little note to explain things a little so you don’t end up quickly moving to the other side of the street when walking by, or telling your kids they cannot come play at the “weird” neighbor’s house.
Last weekend, when I was walking my dog, I did wave (yay me!) and noticed you looked oddly at me when you waved back. I couldn’t figure out why and assumed you were just a little snooty and rude. It wasn’t until I got home, that I realized I was wearing my pink rhinestone studded tiara. That might have looked a little crazy. See, my son bought me the tiara for Christmas last year and said it made him sad I never wore it. In truth, I hadn’t been able to find it and was unpacking a box from our move (over a year ago) and found it. So I put it on to make him happy, then forgot I had it on and took the dog for a walk. I am not that woman who wears a tiara to walk the dog. Well, I guess I am that woman, but, well, you get it. I’ll need to let the other neighbors know too. Who would have thought it would be that night that I meet five of our new neighbors!
I also wanted to explain the conversation you heard in the backyard the other day. As you’ve seen, I have three boys between the ages of 7 and 12. It gets a little wild here! I was not really going to tape up my son’s butthole with duct tape if he did not stop farting on his brother’s head. I mean, I would love to (because the farts are never-ending it seems), but I would never really do that.
When I was on my deck and I yelled that if my son asked me one more time to come wipe his butt, I was going to make him start wiping mine, that was only said in frustration. I am completely capable of wiping my own butt, obviously, and of course would never make my son do that. I just get tired of telling my 12-year-old to wipe his own butt. You get it, right?
I also need to apologize because my oldest told me you came by the other day to borrow our ladder. I guess my son told you he couldn’t ask me because I was having Mommy’s Naked Time. See, the only way to ensure my boys don’t barge into my room looking for me, is to tell them I am naked. Then they knock. So sometimes, on a Sunday afternoon, I escape into my room to play a little Candy Crush without interruption, and I tell them I am dressing and naked. I only take a half hour or so, but I guess they have now dubbed it Mommy’s Naked Time. Ha, ha, boys. You can come borrow the ladder tonight if you still need it.
Finally, I am so sorry for this afternoon when my youngest came to your house asking if you knew where I was. I know you were a bit panicked, but everything was OK really. They’d been fighting all afternoon. When I went into the bathroom to yell at them to stop, they were having a “sword fight”—with their pee. I kind of lost it. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get the pee off the ceiling, and the dog was standing there licking the floor. I just needed to be alone. I told them to all go to their rooms, and I hid in my closet. Sometimes, I hide in there, where everything smells clean and it is dark, and no one can find me. I guess my youngest decided to leave his room to come looking for me and freaked out when he couldn’t find me. I am sorry he frightened you enough to call the police (I don’t know where he came up with the idea that I had been kidnapped) and that you had to deal with that whole scene.
I’m really a nice woman and usually a very good neighbor. I would love to have you over for dinner. I think the kids will get along better (I’ve talked to my boys about never using the dried dog poo in the backyard as bullets in their Nerf guns, so that shouldn’t be an issue anymore if the kids play Nerf wars. I am so sorry your kids had to experience that).
Let me know if you’re free soon, and we’ll plan something. I have lots of wine to choose from. Or beer. We also have rum, vodka, tequila, and well, we can find something you might like.
Your New Neighbors
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