Neighbours

Everyone needs good neighbours….or do they?

I dropped my daughter off on the school run today. It was her first day back after our holiday. During this, her front tooth fell out.

I listened to the conversation she and her friend had.

Friend; ” Did the Tooth fairy find you?”

Poppy ” No, but it was alright, the Spanish Tooth Fairy came instead. I didn’t get normal money”

Friend solemnly nods her head.

Poppy; “Anyway, my mum hates flying. She was sick everywhere” ( slight exaggeration on her part I may add)

Friend looks at me and shakes her head.

I return home to find the neighbours builders arriving.

The neighbours have a crap house. For 5mths they have been extending the “crapness”

The husband has managed to sustain politeness towards both them and the builders. I, on the other hand, am polite in my own way… in other words, I’ve not used the “f word” once.

I mainly just have a mini rant about the brick dust covering the car or the obstacles they like to put in front of me to test my already bad driving.

The Neighbour’s kid likes to enter our garden via a hole in their fence. The first time this happened I was lounging in our garden not wearing much. ( in a non naturist way) next thing I know, I look up and there’s a 6yr old boy standing there who looked like he should be at Sunday school from his formal attire.

I let out a sigh and shout to the husband “There’s a strange boy in our garden”

The boy introduces himself before informing me that the previous occupants of our house used to let him use the garden.

I shout to the husband again ” We need to board the fence up”

This evening, the husband cooks dinner. He decides it’s a good idea to give the 1yr old mash potato as finger food. …this is not going to end well.

Kip ( this is a child not a dog) likes his food. The husband proudly announces that he appears to be managing his potato just fine…

5 seconds later, kip has added his juice to the mash and now appeared to be making potato glue. How creative. He then decided to share this art onto the wall, floor, clothes, table. He then decides, if this wasn’t enough, he doesn’t like dads cooking and ditches the rest of his dinner over the carpet. Wonderful.

After being released from his high chair and whilst I’m still eating my dinner, he stands in front of me and takes a dump…

Give me strength