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Friday, September 30, 2011

How well do you know your neighbours?

The other day, #1 Hubby went to put the rubbish bin out on the verge and returned approximately 15 minutes later.

With news.

We have a pregnant neighbour across the road.  While I've already forgotten what #1 Hubby said her name is, the husband is a Chris - like #1 Hubby, and like the other neighbour across the road.  It's becoming a pre-requisite if you want to live in our street - your name must be Chris.  Or Cris.  Or Kris.  Or Kkriss, in these days of idiotic versions of normal names.

I wasn't aware there was anyone living in our street young enough to procreate.  We live in a suburb populated predominantly by retirees and pensioners.  The Perm Helmet and Beige Slacks To The Armpits Brigade


Apparently I've waved to the pregnant one across the road.  This is news to me, but I am relieved my non-contact and non-welcoming non-friendliness has been polite.  I sincerely hope it was a friendly wave and not a nose scratch mistaken for a wave, or a ranty tanty finger waving at the kids that was mistaken for a wave.

So the neighbour who I have never heard of (and has probably lived across the road for 5+ years...such is my involvement with the neighbours) is 37 weeks pregnant with her first child.  Feeling all jazzed to have another youngun in the 'hood, I was all quick to advise #1Hubby to tell her to feel free to come a knocking if she has any queries or needs any help!

You know...since I'm so underwhelmingly unawesome at the whole parenting thing myself - why not offer up my nonwisdom to a first time parent?!

Also, notice I was directing #1 Hubby to go and relay that message instead of going over myself.  Kind of makes it only semi-inviting that way.  Because I would actually be horrified if she showed up on my doorstep without at least 2 hours warning so that I could  shovel shit into every available cupboard  give Parental Parody Palace a gentle dust....

#1 Hubby was on his way out the door to relay my neighbourly message when he advised me he's already told her about my blog.  So I clothes-lined him at the door, WWF / WWE wrestling style.

Hell to the no.

I wanted to smack him over the nose with a rolled up newspaper, like a bad puppy, while sternly reprimanding him  "NO....NO....NO!"

I may still do that.

Now I can't go make nice with the only other person on my street who wears their pants below their ribs!  Because, on the off chance that she may have checked my blog out, she'll totally know what a crap parent I am.  That is, if the constant crazy woman always shouting from inside the house hadn't already clued her in to that fact. 


I should just get one of these made up for my letterbox


So, to the lovely pregnant neighbour married to the other Chris :

How's about we stick to polite and friendly waves (or nose scratches) as we enter and exit our driveways?  You see, while I was super excited to have someone youthful on the street...I really couldn't face you if there's any remote chance you've read any of my ranting and rambling on here.

Particularly any of the  frequent  odd posts that may elude to me being a less than superb parent.

Especially the  constant  very rare posts that elude to me not really giving a crap about being a less than super parent.

Good luck with the bundle of joy.  If at any point I hear a similar  ranty tanty crazy woman  motherly type voice emanating from your own house, I will be straight over with a bottle of wine so that we may bemoan the joys of motherhood together, speaking loudly enough to completely block out the kids.

Best neighbourly wishes,
PP and the other Chris
Enc. Hand Signals 101

I've helpfully included this diagram for you so that we will be able to communicate from our moving vehicles.  You're welcome.
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PS : If your name is Chris and you have feral kids who enjoy last-minute 2 minute noodle dinners, and you don't really care about household neatness, and you enjoy regular Friday / Saturday / Sunday / every day  afternoon drinks with the neighbours without fear or judgement of each other's children and/or parenting efforts....then there's a house for sale down the road.


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PPS : In case you haven't heard, I'm looking for sponsorship.

14 comments:

  1. Classic! I would sooo love to see your pregnant neighbour comment on this!!!!

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  2. heeheehee awesome post~!! I hope she reads this and knows what an cool neighbour she has~ Id be over with vino like a flash if it were me ;)

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  3. This is precisely why no one that I actually know, knows I blog!
    But I agree with Laney, would love to see if she does read.
    x

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  4. Eh, I read your ranting and rambling, and I would LOVE to be your neighbour! :)

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  5. That is too funny. If I was your neighbour and read your blog I'd so be stalking you IRL to see just how much is true!!

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  6. I'm a little afraid of my neighbours. They can hear me. They can see the continual flow of groceries that come in. Stupid see through bags that contain minimal actual food and large quantities of noodles and coke. What I would like is one of those big gated compounds so I can drive in and be all mysterious and perfect.

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  7. Oh man, my husbands name is Tim!
    Guess we miss out then!

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  8. If you meet all the other criteria re: wine and non-judgement of parenting...then I will speak to the neighbourhood about making an exception.

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  9. Bahaha, enough for you to be horrified!

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  10. Go get you a Chris and I'll see if I can hold off the sale of the house down the road until you're married/re-married/living sinfully

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  11. I don't think she did. Phew!  However, she has stopped waving to me.  Could just be a coincidence.

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  12. I'm prepared to kick others out if you want to move in.

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  13. If she has read it, she's doing the passive-agressive response.  She's stopped waving to me.  Not even a 'Sup Homey from her since this post.

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