Freaking out the Neighbors

Since the incident with the police last week, my neighbors have been on high alert.

The Willoughbys have never been overly friendly. I am guessing it's because they are old. I mean I am old, but they are older. Their kids are grown and occasionally they keep their grandkids on the weekend.

Their house is directly behind ours. We don't have a real fence; it's more like iron (prison) bars that allow us to see directly into their home. It may be a builder's flaw. The iron fence is suppose to look out onto a grassy field, but due to the field's bizarre shape our houses sit at the very tip of the point of this large doggie toilet.

Mrs. Willoughby likes to look out her windows at our house a lot. I think it's Marv adjusting the sprinklers in his boxers that does it for her. She wasn't too happy about my family traipsing around in Snuggies last week. She called the cops on us.

I know they look rather bizarre, but they are quite comfortable. The police man was very nice, and laughed the whole incident off, but I am still rather disturbed by it. It doesn't help that she keeps walking back in forth in front of my house.

Yesterday Sweet Pea and I walked to the corner to get our mail. As we came around from our side of the block, Mrs. Willoughby rounded her corner. When she saw us she immediately turned on her heels and went the other way. She had her mailbox arm and key extended, so I am pretty sure she was going to get her mail... or she might be trying to intimidate the other neighbors.

Man, she's old. I hope when I get OLD my hair doesn't get all wiry and stand on end... or my eyes don't cross when I am confused. I hope that I don't twitch and get overly gassy when engaged in stimulating conversation. What would be stimulating conversation?

I don't even want to think about it; makes my brain hurt

~NM

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