Maybe Our Neighbors Should Hate Us

Nurse Boy here.

(I am writing our second post for the day, so you should read our last post if you have not been here in the last 12 hours.)

Today was garage sale day for the Nurse Boy family. It is a day where we put out our junk that we don't want, have people come by all day and look at it, and if they don't buy anything, we feel rejected. Even though we don't want it either.

None of our neighbors came by to say hi. I suppose they were worried that we would hard sell them. We did not make a killing today, but we did have some fun.

We got to set out all of the kids toys that they don't play with anymore.

Except when it's sitting in the driveway with a 25 cent sticker on it. Then it's like gold.

We were selling a sleeper sofa also. A 500 pound sleeper sofa. A 500 pound sleeper sofa that we promised to never move again about three moves ago. It has served us well. It is the bed that I slept on the week leading up to my marriage to Mrs. NB. It is what we slept on in her parent's house when we were working on our current house for about 2 months longer than expected. It is what my parents slept on every time they visited for the last 5 years. It has also produced hernias (from lifting it) and a permanent line in every ones back that has slept on it. We sat on it in the driveway like the king and queen of white trash today. I even took a short nap on it.

It did not sell.

We have two more days to try to get rid of it. If it does not sell, I will have to burn it in my driveway. I swear I will not move that thing again, unless it is helping to lift it into the back of someone else's truck.

Speaking of white trash, the Mrs. gave me a haircut on the back patio again tonight. The neighbor kids were at the fence and over the fence and on the fence. (That goes without saying, because we had just had dinner so they blessed us with commentary.) So she was using the clippers, and the neighbor kids were called away from the fence. This was the perfect opportunity for the Mrs. to give me my summer cut in privacy. You know the summer cut. The one where she continues down and shaves my back so I won't scare the small children at the pool.

"Look mom, it's the missing link."

"No son, that is just a man who likes to wear a shaggy sweater to the pool."

No, that is just me. So anyway, I have a little pride, so I don't want the neighbors to know about the back shaving. So Sweet Pea sees what is going on and, in shocked amazement, screams, "Mommy, you giv'n daddy's back a haircut?" There goes my privacy.

Outside.

I told you we are white trash.

Won't You Be Our Neighbor?

Mrs. Nurse Boy here.

We have lived in our neighborhood for 5 years now. We loved the neighborhood for its large, beautiful trees and older brick homes. It is a quiet neighborhood with very little traffic. The elementary school is about 2 blocks away with a walking track and an awesome playground. It just looked like a wonderful place for our kids to grow up.

Then we moved in.

We have blogged about our neighbors before. Truth is, we don't seem to be very popular around here. Not really sure why. We do know that the previous owners lived here for 19 years, lost a teenage son to a horrible car accident, and soon went through a nasty divorce. Maybe we bought their friend's house? Maybe, in some weird way, they think we took sides? Maybe we just represent that sad time when everything seemed to fall apart for the family? Whatever it is, we have just learned to keep to ourselves.

We have neighbors that won't even wave back at us, much less partake in some friendly chit chat.

We have neighbors that speak Spanish and English, but their English suddenly gets rusty when, say, their tree falls on our home or our car. All of the sudden, they can't form a complete sentence. Lucky us...on a number of levels, wouldn't you say?

Then there is the older gentleman behind us that thinks men shouldn't be nurses and that it says something about my husband lacking on some professional level. I sure hope Nurse Boy gets to be there for his colonoscopy one day. :0)

We also have some little children whose parents think "No" is a word that holds a child back. I'll say... like the time one of them got mad and choked one of our sons out of anger. You can't say, "NO!" then? Their little ones have also been known to climb to the top of the privacy fence and comment about our dinner while we enjoy our meal in the "privacy" of our backyard. Yeah, I just love that !

OH! I must NEVER forget the bachelor down the street that has an old, abandoned, in ground pool that breeds MASSIVE amounts of mosquitoes ALL SUMMER LONG. And, no the city won't do anything about it. It is just a perk of living in the neighborhood.

But, today was the last straw...

Nurse Boy has shared his dislike of our friendly possum that hides out in our trash cans. He now refuses to take the trash out passed dark. I guess their eyes have locked in the moonlight one too many times. The possum just feels like we are the ones climbing over the privacy fence while he enjoys a tasty meal of apple cores and sticky sandwich crusts.

Except, "he" is a "she."

And, she wasn't eating for one. Meet our newest neighbor...





We found this "precious" little creature in our backyard this morning. YUCK!

So, won't you be our neighbor???

Our Very Dear Neighbors (Insert Sarcastic Voice)

Dear Not-So-Friendly Neighbors,

When we moved into our home, we noticed that you had a not-so-healthy tree in your backyard that was touching our roof. I knew that tree bothered me for a reason. We approached you politely to make sure you were OK with us trimming some branches off of our property. Of course you were, it didn't come out of your pocket. We would find out later that the tree in question had always been a sore spot between the previous owners of both of our houses. You were cold and unconcerned.

The next few years you remained cold and distance. Unless your children were taking part in a fund raiser. And, to be a friendly neighbor, I bought tickets to a pancake breakfast and am the proud owner of overpriced chocolates, candles, and wrapping paper. You still remained cold and distant. That was OK.

Until your not-so-healthy tree fell onto my roof, right above my boys' bedroom...

The previous owners had feared this for years. Frankly, so had I. Now it had come to pass.

I was dusting my room when I noticed that the tree seemed to appear much closer to the window than normal. I ran outside to see what I had feared. The tree was laying across our roof. You, our neighbors and owner of the sick tree, noticed this problem before I had. You were just waiting for me to discover the wreckage.

Thanks for the knock on the door. Thanks for the phone call. Thanks for making sure everyone was OK. Thanks for the apology.

Oh, wait. You didn't do any of that.

No, you came over when you saw that I was outside on the phone trying not to cry. (No, that wasn't a logical reaction. But, how does one respond when a tree is resting on one's roof?) You PROUDLY informed me that it wasn't your problem since it was now on our property and you wouldn't have to spend a dime. You also told me that you make a lot of money and can't wait to move out of this neighborhood. Well, played, my friend. Unfortunately, you were right. It wasn't your problem and, apparently, it wasn't your concern. That is the law in this here fine state.

Nope, you wouldn't have to spend a dime, have someone some come out ASAP to remove the tree, get bids, schedule the repair, and decide which is more important: a roof or private school for the kiddos. You wouldn't have to claim this on your home owner's insurance. You wouldn't have to shell out money for the crazy deductible.

Nope. And, you did just that. Nothing. Offered nothing. Did nothing. Haven't spoken to us since.

So, when your other sick tree (you know, the one I mentioned on that fateful day) fell on my van, it was very hard to be nice. Sending your 10 year old to the door to tell me was an excellent touch. Telling me that you planned to cut down the tree the next day was ridiculous. Wanting to yank the tree off of my van, without worrying about more scratches, made my blood boil. And, I really love how you act like you can't speak any English when we have these problems. Apparently, you are aware that I "No hablo Espaniol." Yet, I notice how you and you wife hold down jobs here in America and are able to handle a mortgage. Sorry, I am NOT buying the whole broken English thing. I am at a loss for words. (Well, maybe not, when I look at how long this letter is.) No sorry's were spoken, only some silly smirks.

And, yet again. It isn't your claim. Nope, it is mine. I am just thankful Nurse Boy was at work. If his car had been parked in the driveway, it would have been totalled. I know, I know. Not your problem.

So, when Nurse Boy got home, he sawed away at the wreckage. Piece by piece we pulled the tree (OK, very large branch) off of the van. Yes, we placed every last piece in your yard. I am sure you understand. And, since you are going to cut down that tree tomorrow, it won't take much more to clean up that debris. Oh wait, tomorrow was actually yesterday since it happened Monday and today is Wednesday.

I know. I won't hold my breath. Maybe tomorrow means this weekend in your home land.

And, don't worry. Sunday's sermon and Tuesday's Bible lesson were both on forgiveness. God is working on me. After all, God does have a great sense of humor. I do love Him for that. But, I am finding it a little difficult to love you right now. I'll get there.

Just don't let anymore trees fall in this direction, K?

And, CUT DOWN THAT TREE....

Oops. Please...

Mrs. Nurse Boy

Letter to Lake "Snobivira" Residents and Police Officers

You Stink!

Everyone of you!

Especially the police officers!

I must start out with a disclaimer. I realize that I should not drive over the speed limit. I realize that it is my own fault when I get clocked driving over the speed limit with my entire family in the van. I realize that I often go faster than I should.

BUT...

Your shameless speed trap is ridiculous. Going 35 on Holiday Drive is a bit painful already for a person like me. Dropping the speed to 25 directly across from the entrance to your golf course should be a crime.

I know that you think because you are rich, you should get your own police department. But, there are not that many of you, so the cost of your own police department is high. You are not rich enough to pay for the police "protection" out of your own pockets, though. It is obvious that the only reason you drop the speed limit across from your community entrance is because you want to pay your police officers with the speeding ticket proceeds. Either that, or your average age is 75 and you don't have quick enough decision making capabilities to be able to pull out into the sparse 35 mph traffic.

Also, police officers for Lake "Snobivira," You are sell outs! You have a job that entails working a speed trap 90% of your time on the clock to protect a bunch of snobs that look down on you, too. You are helping the rich steal from us average county residents. I am sure they give you a quota, because if you don't give a certain number of tickets your salary does not get paid. Is that what you thought you would do when you went to the Police Academy?

Here is my promise to you. I will not avoid your precious entrance. I will drive by it every chance I get. I will go 15 mph. I hope your leaky bladders drain in your pants while driving behind me. I hope your prunes kick in right then. I hope your Viagra wears off. I also promise to flash my lights at every unsuspecting person coming the opposite direction to warn them of your ridiculous trap.

By the way, it has been a year since my ticket, and I am a lot less bitter now.

Can't you tell?

Mr. Nurse Boy

Open Letter to the Neighbors

Dear Neighbors,

We are sorry that we still have leaves on our lawn. We know that we often wait too long between mows. We know that the leaves fall every autumn and, yet, it is always a surprise to us and we often take too much time to rake them up. You see, we do a good job of keeping the inside of our house clean because it is Mrs. Nurse Boy's domain. We do a poor job of keeping the outside of our house clean because it is Mr. Nurse Boy's domain. Mr. Nurse Boy hates to do yard work. It is not so bad once he gets started, but it is hard to get him started.

How does Mr. Nurse Boy know that it irritates you, poor neighbors?

Because when you rake, you rake a perfect line at the property line. I couldn't draw such a straight line on paper with a ruler. I think you use a laser line or something. When I do the leaves, I rake the bulky stuff, then mulch the rest with my mower. I tend to stray over the property line a few feet.

Not you.

Perfect line.

Oh, and those times when a stick from our tree falls in your yard, thanks for throwing it back in my yard. I've seen that a couple of times. Maybe I should try to charge you for the energy saving you get from my tree from the shade in the summer. Oh, I digress.

Maybe it is the stubbornness in me, but it makes me want to wait until we have had a day of high winds blowing in your direction before I will mow again. Today I was planning on raking/mowing, but there is a rain snow mix going on out there, so I figured I would blog instead.

As long as I am apologizing, I would like to apologize to the neighbors across the street. I am sorry that we annoy you by saying hello and waving every now and then. I know that it is annoying to see people try to be friendly. Please, keep ignoring us when we display such terrible behavior.

To the neighbors behind us, I am sorry that my kids play with balls. You see they are boys, and balls are fascinating to them. I am sorry that when a ball goes over the fence they climb the fence to retrieve it. We have instructed them to let the ball lay if it goes over the fence, but sometimes they really want to continue with their game and they try to sneak over the fence to get it. Please, keep reminding them they annoy you by banging on the kitchen window and screaming when they do it. That is very helpful. It makes us want to encourage our boys to mow your yard when you get too old to do so. I don't think that will be long. It will probably happen right when they are prime mowing ages.

To the neighbors on the other side, I am sorry that my roof damaged your tree when it blew over on it. Thank you for not offering to do anything when this happened. Thank you for telling us how you make a lot of money. It may not have been good timing to mention this during the same conversation that you told us your insurance company said you legally were not liable for anything. I am sorry for feeling like maybe you should have been concerned. It was a nice touch though when you came over to ask the name of our roofer, when you needed to get some roof work done. Well played.

Mrs. Nurse Boy and I have mentioned this before, but if every one of your neighbors are weird, does that make you the weird one? We seem to function well in society, but that is a matter of opinion, I suppose.