Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Alphabet soup and some whine.

I believe this post may best be taken with alcohol.
The same post has remained on my blog for just about a week.
I have been M.I.A.

Missing In Action?

No, More like:
Managing Interior Anarchy

This is what my living room usually looks like:




This is what my living room currently looks like:



Yup, you guessed it, that wonderful, magical, time of the year, of decorating for Christmas.

A time when my DH pulls dozens of dusty cardboard boxes containing tangled Christmas lights, garlands, wreaths, ornaments, etc. out of the attic, And then leaves them all in the middle of the living room, Waiting I believe, for the Christmas elves.

( Who, as everyone knows- are related to the sock fairy, who picks his dirty socks off the floor , washes them, and puts them back in his drawer)

Anyway, these Christmas elves, it seems, come in the middle of the night, empty all those boxes, put up all those garlands, wreaths, and the tree, and stack the boxes, to be stored in the garage.

My Christmas elves were the victims of downsizing apparently.

I have been waiting to blog till I have an AFTER picture to post. I do have some pride (not much, but some...)

One small problem
I have 2 kids home sick


I don't know which is the more difficult patient , the two year old or the 14 year old. But needless to say my decorating is going more slowly this year.

More alphabet soup

H.O. A.

I leave it to you to come up with a witty phrase the best I could come up with was

Highly Opinionated a$$#*les

We received a "courtesy" letter today. Requesting :

1) that parents be at the bus stop with their children to supervise them and keep them quiet, because they are being too noisy. There is 1 neighbor who works nights in the neighborhood, and she has been complaining to the HOA because: when the 15 elementary school aged children stand on the corner (for no more than 15 minutes) they wake her up.

Now bus pick up time is 8:30 AM., not exactly falling during the time for any legal noise ordinance. ( And yes, I can see the bus stop from my window). Yet I am still supposed to bundle up my sick 2 year old and stand out in the cold with my 8 & 10 year old (these are not kindergartners we are talking about) to assure that she is not bothered for 15 minutes?!

(I wonder if the garbage men received a similar letter?)

And 2)the letter is a complaint because there are toys in our front yard. I kid you not. 2 toy dump trucks, a trike and a scooter at the time of the complaint. Goodness, obviously "Sanford and Son" have nothing on us. Good thing they can't see my living room.

5 comments:

Stowe said...

Jeesh. Maybe I should bring the resident hounds and Wilma over to poop in your complaining neighbors yard and let her know what life is really all about. Tell her to lighten up a little. That is really dumb. Hope the kids are feeling better.

Stephen said...

Option 1 - Buy your neighbor a sleep sound (white noise) machine for Christmas.

Option 2 - You should counter with your own complaint that your childern's nocturnal REM cycles are disrupted by the arrival of said neighbor at an otherwise inappropriate hour. Furthermore, the side effects of aforementioned REM cycle disruption can often be displayed through overt vocalizations and "carrying on".

Option 3 - Suggest to the neighbor that they perform an act of self-violation...

Zan said...

Good grief!! Why is there always at least one in every neighborhood that thinks they were born under a special bush? If they never want to hear kids or see any evidence of their existence, they need to live on their own acreage miles from the rest of the world.

Hope the kids feel better soon!

Addie said...

I'm with Stephen and I vote for Option 3! My word v. is fantart, and I think you could start your conversation with your neighbor like so, "Listen up, you night-working little fantart...".

Let me know how it goes!

Addie

Leslie said...

I would just buy the kids a loudspeaker so she would think about how lucky she was before they got it. Keep "hollering" kids.