Hi-diddly ho Neighborinos!

I just wanted to drop you a quick line to formally welcome you to the neighbourhood although you have been here for some months now. Forgive me for not popping over with a casserole but I've been a little preoccupied with my new baby.

Fun little fact about my new baby – her bedroom window faces your backyard. You know that place you spend a lot of time in with your friends? In the middle of the night? Even in winter? On Tuesdays?

Another bedroom window that faces your backyard is….. mine! I must say, some of you should consider going into radio because of those lovely, resonant voices you have. Although you might want to beef up your vocab to include phrases other than "It was fuckin' sick!" and "Fuck off, ya c!nt!" 

Oh, but I sound like an old lady, don't I? Haha! I assure you, though my partner and I probably have close to 20 years on you, we still believe in having a good time. We were once like you. Sort of.

It's not the sighting of a bong on your outdoor table. Both Brendon and I have smoked more than one of those over the course of our lifetimes.

And it's not the blue language that floats across the fence we share because it occurs to me that similar language might float back the other way, too. People in glass fucking houses, hey?

It's not you starting your motorbike up in the hours before dawn and trying to ride it up your shed wall to hysterical laughter and cheering (I suspect that is not what you were doing at all but it was what my brain pieced together when that roar startled me awake at 3 in the morning). I grew up in the country. Lots of bikes. Lots of bogans. Fun fact #2: I lost my virginity to a bike bogan. Sadly, it didn't work out.

And remember that time (last weekend) when one of you had a fight with your girlfriend in the back yard and she was all like, "You don't fuckin' respect me!"? I thought it was beautiful when you replied that you did respect her. Your exact words, "I respect the fuck out of you!" just touched me. At 4:30am in the morning. And I was totally with you when you pointed out how you let her borrow your car which she then "scratched the fuck out of" and yet, did you say anything? I mean, I don't know for sure but I'm assuming the answer was no, you didn't say anything. Sometimes it's hard to hear the entire conversation.  

Bren told me he heard one of your girls having this phone conversation last Friday night,

"Um, yeah, hi. You arrested my boyfriend tonight and I just wanted to get some information."

But you know what? I once dated a guy whose housemate grew hydroponic plants in his shed and I was there when the place got raided by the cops. That is quite a way to wake up, let me tell you! Especially when you are nude. Obviously, I am pretty hardcore so I wasn't about to be shocked by a little arrest.  

So I think you can see that although we are on the wrong side of 35 and have kids, we are pretty easy-going people. We feel your youthful passion for life, man, and we salute it. 

But recently, I'm sorry to have to inform you, you crossed a line.

Loud music, in general, is fine. But I object and object strongly to being woken by Haddaway'sWhat Is Love? blaring from your stereo. How dare you play that diabolical early nineties music? Were you even born in 1993? Do you have any idea what it was like to live through that shit the first time?

We have children, you sick bastards! 

I want to be the bigger person here. I want to believe this was a momentary lapse in judgement for you guys. And I am all about second chances. So let's try to put this behind us.

But let me be clear. If I ever, ever hear you playing Rhythm Is A Dancer or Sweat (A La La La La Long), I can not be held responsible for what I might do.

With sincerest neighbourly affection,

The Little Mumma and co

 

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For those playing at home, yes, this is not the first letter I have ever written to a neighbour!

 

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