Dear Old Man who Lives Across the Street from Me, Part 2

Dear Old Man who Lives Across the Street from Me,

I always thought you hated me, and in your defense, I really don't blame you. Maybe I annoy you when I sing at the top of my lungs with my windows open or maybe you can't stand it when I go out in the front yard and yell, "Levi...get your little butt in this house right now." Hard to say, really, but we've made some real progress recently.

A couple of weeks ago when you were out mowing and I was out running, I saw that brief but very meaningful eye contact you gave me. Don't worry, though. I didn't tell anyone. No one will ever know that you actually looked at me. It's our secret, but I saw...I know.

And I can't be 100% positive, but I think you were actually waved at me last week as I was leaving the neighborhood. I quickly glanced in my rear view mirror to see if you were waving to the car behind me, but no one else was there. It was just me.

But I was shocked, to say the least, when you rang my doorbell yesterday morning. I thought surely Oliver, our free roaming cat, must have bitten you and you were seeking proof of her annual shots or some form of medical compensation. Or maybe, just maybe, you were coming over to accuse my kids of climbing your trees or picking your flowers or something. But no. Oh, no, no, no. It was something much more personal.

I would like to admit, however, that it's sometimes hard to recognize you without that fisherman hat on. But I know it was you; and you were talking to me. Me. Heather. Me. Deep breath.

"I have some mirrors I want to give you," he said.
Me? Why me? Do you know who I am? You actually came over here to ask ME if I wanted something? I felt like throwing myself on you for a momentous hug, but thought you might have gone all kung-fu on me or something.

So, I told a couple of people where I was going, just in case I went missing. I mean, I don't know this guy. Sure, he lives across the street from me, but he could bury dead bodies in a trap door in his garage floor. Dang that 48 hours Mystery show for making me so freakin' crazy.

So, after school, the kids, the cat, and I made our way over to the single cleanest garage I've even seen in my life to retrieve my gifts. I mean, seriously. Where are the leaves on the floor, the cobwebs in your windows, or the dead bugs gathered in the corner. Where are they? Do you clean this thing every single day or what.

Anyway, I graciously accepted two mirrors and a paper shredder of all things. Not that I actually needed these things, but I just couldn't say no. I didn't care if he gave me a cow skull, I had already decided I was going to take whatever he offered.

We've made some real progress in the last month. It only took me 4 3/4 years, but we're gettin' there. You'll be coming over for coffee and watching Regis and Kelly before we know it.

Hugs and kisses,

Heather

If You Can't Beat 'Em...

You know the old adage...the one that currently sums up my life.

Here's the deal. I live with 3 men. I fully realize that 2 of them are not fully grown as of yet, but they are men, nonetheless. I have tried, tried, TRIED, to get my point across and have them be decent, clean, respectable men, but let's face it. I'm failing miserably. I've deducted that it just can't be done. It's something in their DNA that causes them to be the way they are. Can't be my fault because God knows I've tried until I'm blue in the face.

So, as of today, I've decided to end the constant nagging and make a few simple changes in my life.

It will no longer be necessary to flush any toilet in this house. What's the point anyway? We'll just let the aroma brew up for a few days and see how amazing our house smells. Besides, it's "all natural." And just think of all the water we'll be saving.

Speaking of which, we might as well just talk about all of our bodily functions on a daily basis. No place will be off limits, especially the dinner table. We'll talk freely about everything that comes out of our bodies, and then just for fun, we'll practice some of the "gassier" things while sitting in the car with the windows rolled up and locked. Ah, at last, family togetherness will be so much more meaningful.

Then we'll all help Benj with his ABC's by each belching the entire alphabet in one quick breath. I can't think of a more appropriate way to teach preschool skills in a way that each family member will understand. Maybe we could make a video and put in on youtube, just for an added creative bonus. Everyone will be so jealous of us.

And stock in Kleenex will most certainly go down, as we will no longer be needing any sort of tissues. That's what God gave us fingers for.

We'll eat fried chicken EVERYDAY until our arteries harden or we break a limb from slipping on the multi-layers of grease on the floor. There will no longer be a need for vegetables. We'll just take multi-vitamins, if we happen to remember and if they magically appear in the cabinet.

And, finally, just think of all the free time we'll have because we will no longer have to clean ANYTHING EVER for any reason. It'll give us a lot more time for Wii playing, LEGO building, and, of course, Razorback football watching.

It's gonna be such a great life :)