I open my garage door to a quiet cul-de-sac. I catch a glimpse of a car passing by the adjoining street, but otherwise don’t hear anything. My daughter is screaming out Almost There at the top of her lungs… and since I’m the good SAHM, I’m belting out the lyrics too. I tend to think I have a good voice, but thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around to let me know that I’m wrong.
We return a few hours later to one sleeping infant and a toddler obviously needing a nap. Getting out of the car is a fight, her crying, me begging her to just get out or she can stay in the hot garage. The yells and screams don’t seem to provoke any movement in the blinds or curtains as I look around to see if anyone notices my struggle.
On the weekend, my children play in the street, my son riding his bike around the neighborhood. My daughter pretends she can’t pedal her tricycle, except when she’s bribed with chocolate. One car pulls out of their garage, waving kindly goodbye after checking that they wouldn’t hit my daughter.
I return back inside to clean work blog watch television as my husband stays outside with the kids. A couple of hours later, they all return inside and act like they have been in the desert for the last few weeks. Lots of water, snacks galore and nap time for the baby.
Three of my immediate elderly neighbors are on the Homeowners’ Association Board. When I get a chance to see them, I get a courteous “Hello” as they walk their dogs.
In short, I don’t know my neighbors. They don’t know me. I think I want to change it, but should I?
This has been another edition of Finish the Sentence Friday. This week’s prompt is “When it comes to my neighbors…” How would you answer it? Come link up at: Finding Ninee!