I've already stated that when I first got married, Bonehead was in the Navy. Anyone who knows anyone in the military (and probably most who don't) know that military life = lots and lots of moving around. We have moved a grand total of 12 times. I am currently experiencing the longest period of staying in the same spot in my entire married life.
It was a big deal when we bought our first home and moved in with the sole intention of 'putting down roots.' And of course, no one really knows their neighbors when they first move in. That relationship takes a while to establish. But then again, that was 5 & 1/2 years ago now, so we've got a pretty good idea of who our neighbors are. All except one that is.
When we first moved in, there was a little two bedroom house across the street. It was really tiny, a bit unkempt, and pretty much the neighborhood eye sore. Shortly after we moved in, it was torn down and rebuilt. The house is still small by today's standards, but it was sold in all it's newness to a single owner.
At some point I had one of those 'eureka' moments (the kind that blasts you upside the head with such ferocity that you can't believe your neurons haven't made that synapse connection before) and picked up the phone to call Bonehead at work. At that time I was still a stay at home mom to Smoochie, who was maybe 3 years old. We'd lived in our home for at least a year and a half.
I picked up the phone to call Bonehead, and calmly explained to him that I firmly believed we were living next to a serial killer. And of course, like the doting husband he is, he told me I was one hundred percent certifiably full of bean dip. But I insisted that he hear me out.
"We know SOMEONE lives in that house. His lawn is always mowed, his sidewalk and driveway are always shoveled. We see the TV light radiating from within after the sun sinks from eyesight. There's a car parked in the driveway at times, and at times not. There are no weeds in the yard, the house is well kept. We've lived in our home with him across the street for over a year now. But have you ever SEEN this man? Can you tell me what he looks like?"
And he could not. Neither of us had seen his face, and I had spent a great portion of time outside. I'd never even seen him shovel his walk or mow his lawn and yet somehow it was always done.
We've lived in our home for 5 & 1/2 years now, and I still can not tell you what he looks like. I have seen him less than a handful of times, but always from the back. I've even driven by him from the opposite direction in his car, but its almost as if there is an invisibility shield around him because I still couldn't tell you what his face looks like, AND I WAS LOOKING. I find it hard to believe that someone could be that unmemorable, but I could physically bump into him at the local grocery store and wouldn't know it.
We spy him maybe twice a year, and each sighting prompts the robust exclamation, "I saw the serial killer!" And is immediately followed by the question, "What's he look like?" And always the same answer: I don't know. No Clue.
I spotted him a couple of days ago, outside his home. It was the middle of the day, and he was brandishing a shovel. By the time I crossed behind my home to my driveway, he was gone. Quick enough to make me question my sighting, but not quick enough to make me wonder just WHAT exactly was he doing with that shovel, anyway? He'd probably like us to think he was clearing his sidewalk.
Before anyone tries to be the voice of reason and states the obvious, like why don't I just go over and introduce myself with a neighborly pie or something, I don't like pie, and therefore don't own any pie tins. Plus there is this paralyzing character trait of shyness that I have (Seriously, I would still be wondering who that cute neighbor next door was if he hadn't introduced himself to me) that leads me to believe that is never going to happen. Not even if I buy a pie. Plus, what happens if he answers the door wielding an axe?
Just let it be known, I'm onto you, neighbor dude. You shape shifting, lightning fast moving, invisible cloak wearing serial killer dude, you.
It was a big deal when we bought our first home and moved in with the sole intention of 'putting down roots.' And of course, no one really knows their neighbors when they first move in. That relationship takes a while to establish. But then again, that was 5 & 1/2 years ago now, so we've got a pretty good idea of who our neighbors are. All except one that is.
When we first moved in, there was a little two bedroom house across the street. It was really tiny, a bit unkempt, and pretty much the neighborhood eye sore. Shortly after we moved in, it was torn down and rebuilt. The house is still small by today's standards, but it was sold in all it's newness to a single owner.
At some point I had one of those 'eureka' moments (the kind that blasts you upside the head with such ferocity that you can't believe your neurons haven't made that synapse connection before) and picked up the phone to call Bonehead at work. At that time I was still a stay at home mom to Smoochie, who was maybe 3 years old. We'd lived in our home for at least a year and a half.
I picked up the phone to call Bonehead, and calmly explained to him that I firmly believed we were living next to a serial killer. And of course, like the doting husband he is, he told me I was one hundred percent certifiably full of bean dip. But I insisted that he hear me out.
"We know SOMEONE lives in that house. His lawn is always mowed, his sidewalk and driveway are always shoveled. We see the TV light radiating from within after the sun sinks from eyesight. There's a car parked in the driveway at times, and at times not. There are no weeds in the yard, the house is well kept. We've lived in our home with him across the street for over a year now. But have you ever SEEN this man? Can you tell me what he looks like?"
And he could not. Neither of us had seen his face, and I had spent a great portion of time outside. I'd never even seen him shovel his walk or mow his lawn and yet somehow it was always done.
We've lived in our home for 5 & 1/2 years now, and I still can not tell you what he looks like. I have seen him less than a handful of times, but always from the back. I've even driven by him from the opposite direction in his car, but its almost as if there is an invisibility shield around him because I still couldn't tell you what his face looks like, AND I WAS LOOKING. I find it hard to believe that someone could be that unmemorable, but I could physically bump into him at the local grocery store and wouldn't know it.
We spy him maybe twice a year, and each sighting prompts the robust exclamation, "I saw the serial killer!" And is immediately followed by the question, "What's he look like?" And always the same answer: I don't know. No Clue.
I spotted him a couple of days ago, outside his home. It was the middle of the day, and he was brandishing a shovel. By the time I crossed behind my home to my driveway, he was gone. Quick enough to make me question my sighting, but not quick enough to make me wonder just WHAT exactly was he doing with that shovel, anyway? He'd probably like us to think he was clearing his sidewalk.
Before anyone tries to be the voice of reason and states the obvious, like why don't I just go over and introduce myself with a neighborly pie or something, I don't like pie, and therefore don't own any pie tins. Plus there is this paralyzing character trait of shyness that I have (Seriously, I would still be wondering who that cute neighbor next door was if he hadn't introduced himself to me) that leads me to believe that is never going to happen. Not even if I buy a pie. Plus, what happens if he answers the door wielding an axe?
Just let it be known, I'm onto you, neighbor dude. You shape shifting, lightning fast moving, invisible cloak wearing serial killer dude, you.
1 comment:
Hilarious! We've had neighbors like that, too. We used to live next door to virtual strangers. We knew they were there, but never saw them. Then one day, the doorbell rang and one of them was standing there. It was creepy!
Our neighbors now are renters, which is so not cool in this residential neighborhood, and they never leave their house. That means they never take care of the property, either. We've had to resort to being 'those people' and calling the city compliance officer on them, but are forever told they can't contact the out of state property owner to get any of the work done. It's hard to be a good neighbor to this all the time!
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