I’m not sure if I ever mentioned that our super nice neighbors moved…last November. The ones who made us food when Kellan was born, the wife who took care of the dead bird because I was like. OMG. DEAD BIRD. And she was all, Um. Yah. And then dealt with it without me even knowing.
Anyway, we were really sad about them moving. Really sad. Even more so when the new neighbors moved in. I made them muffins. We tried to be nice. The wife was pretty much something that rhymes with itchy…always with a scowl on her face, never saying a word to us, never waving. Zip. Zilch. Nada.
So, we didn’t – and we haven’t – really made any further attempts to be friends.
And then last night? I was in the front yard/driveway with Kellan and she came outside and started talking to me. Out of nowhere.
I was just as confused as you are about this random act of niceness.
I’m still not sure what I did to be lucky enough to be graced with her smile.
The conversation started out okay….pretty normal stuff that moms talk about….sleeping, potty training…pre-school (she has three boys, one who is about to be in 1st grade, one in pre-school, one who is 4 months old).
Then it took an unexpected turn. A turn I had no chance to prepare myself for.
A bird flew by their roof and she was all, “Oh, yah. I have someone coming out tomorrow to block off their way in. They built a nest inside our roof. The babies are SO ANNOYING. Once mama bird can’t get in…” she trailed off…
Hear me, people. It took everything I had to inconspicuously scoop my jaw off the pavement and not say what was running through my head (Bird murderer!). I’m pretty sure my face gave me away because she quickly was like, “they aren’t nice birds, Starlings, so, oh well.”
What is wrong with you? Who does that? What kind of lesson are you teaching your children? Something is irritating me, so I’m just going to kill it. Oh well.
Now I feel like an accomplice to her awful plan because I know it’s happening and I’m not doing anything to stop it.
I’m sure there is a more humane way to handle this, we live in Boulder for crying out loud, the place where they suck up prairie dogs with a vacuum that’s attached to a tank thing with padded walls and relocate them.
I’m totally serious.
Her method? Heartless. Cop out. Never something I would do.
I have no idea why she decided to come out and talk to me and tell me it’s macaroni and cheese night and how parenting only gets so much worse after you get past the two-to-one nap transition.
Question? If it’s so terrible, why didn’t you stop after the first one?
Follow up question? Why are we even still talking?
She acted more annoyed by her kids than she did happy to have them. She always acts that way, actually. The second I started paying attention to them as they started showing me rocks, they latched into me like white on rice.
That makes me sad. Sad for the poor baby birds. Sad for her kids. Sad for her husband, who is actually super nice. Ten to one his favorite drink is the one that allows him to tune her out.
All of this is exactly why we will never be friends.
I mean, what if she starts to think *I’m* irritating?