It's not the neighbours with the dogs you have to worry about, nor the young ones with multiple vehicles which often means regular, late night, weekend partying.
No. It's the neighbours with the small children you should fear.
Recently, I spotted a small article in our local
newspaper.
In the UK, neighbours had complained to their local council
about the continual and excessive volume of noise whenever a particular toddler was
playing outside in his backyard.
Seriously.
And, as a result, the Council was obligated to investigate
and respond to the complaint.
Seriously.
They warned that, should the noise continue, they would have
no choice but to install a meter to measure the level of noise created by the
toddler, and if it was found to breech the noise levels as set out by the local
council, then the parents would be fined. FINED. Fined because of their toddler
being very loud when he played outside in his yard.
I had a bit of a snort/laugh at this, because I have regularly
joked about how my feral threesome have probably devalued properties within
a 2 block radius, on account of their constant and excessive noise levels, and
my own corresponding constant and excessive ranty-yelling noise levels.
I feel for my neighbours to the one side. They’re
lovely, retired, exceptionally quiet people. You’d never even know
if they were home or not. In fact, they've
gradually reduced the amount of time they're in residence since they first
moved in a couple of years ago. I fear my kids have caused irreparable damage to their
eardrums, and being the lovely types they are, they simply go away
rather than complain to us. Or our local council.
I don’t feel for my neighbour in front. That’s
#1 Brother. He gets occasional dodgy ironing, and semi-regular
meals in return for putting up with the noise and uninvited visitors. And I ignore his constant threats to electrify his front door if I keep allowing toddler invasions of his man cave.
The neighbour in front of him (we’re the back of 3 town
houses), well she passed away recently. She was a lovely lady,
who will be sorely missed. And not just because she made us all look good
with her mega gardening prowess. She was a (literally) built-in neighbourhood watch
service, and regular pet-minder whenever we went away. But mostly, she
was so lovely that she genuinely claimed to have never ever heard a peep out
of our kids, or - most importantly - my own yelling and admonishing every time the kids drew on the
walls. Which happens a lot.
The neighbour on the other side is in the process of
building. The early morning starts and constant building dust and debris
has earnt me at least the next 10-15 years of noise. Plus, hopefully,
some discounted babysitting from their two teenage daughters.
The neighbour across the road is also building. See above. Except the babysitting, his kids are slightly younger so I have sufficient time to wear out the incoming teenagers next door, and then move on to the kids across the road. We're talking local, cheap, babysitting until my own kids are old enough to become the neighbourhood babysitters. Score!
To the rear is the neighbour from hell, with the exceptionally vocal lady friend. As previously
documented here. However, they either broke up, or if she was a ‘lady of the night’
as I suspect, he must’ve run out of money. Because I haven’t
heard her in months. He now has a new lady love, complete with a couple
of puppies (real ones…not a metaphor), but none of that makes up for even
a quarter of the noises his previous lady made in the throes of passion.
Anyway, back to my own backyard.
On any given day, this is the noise pollution likely to be
emanating from my tiny courtyard :
Mstr2 : Yo Yo Yo. I’m the man! No! Go ‘way!
NOOOOOOOOOO! You’re bad…BADDDDD! Bitches be loco!
To nobody at all. Often, to the trampoline or a sand
pit toy. Mostly, to the back fence. Conveniently, the back fence underneath the neighbour from hell's bedroom window.
Miss2 : Bullshit Poppy! BULLSHITTTTTTTT!
Always when Poppy is nowhere to be found, never when he is actually
there to respond. I guess that way she will always win, and always have
the last say? Total fruit of my loins, that child.
Miss6 : I kissed a girl and I liked it! Taste my
chilli shit stick!
Despite regularly advising her of the correct lyrics, Miss6
has stumbled across a way to ‘innocently’ swear, and she’s
not going to stop. Ever.
Which brings me to the adults of the household / feral
enclosure.
#1 Hubby to Mstr2 : Shh! And stop eating the sand
Insert
more yelling from Mstr2.
That’s it! I’m getting Mummy!
#1 Hubby to Miss2 : Uh-uh! We don’t say “shed
words”. That’s naughty.
Insert insane evil cackle from
Miss2, followed by a defiant BULLSHIT! in her father’s direction.
Right! I’m telling your Mother!
#1 Hubby to Miss6 : That’s enough. I know what
you’re doing. Stop swearing. Little girls shouldn’t use
“shed words”.
Insert another BULLSHIT! from Miss2, as a show
of solidarity for her older sister.
Which is Miss6's cue to resume jumping on the trampoline, belting out the incorrect
lyrics at the top of her lungs, while wearing a pink chequered cowboy hat with
a multicoloured fairy dress, and bright orange road workers vest.
I
warned you! I’m telling your Mother now!
Did you catch the common theme in all cases? Cue yours truly….
Me to Mstr2 : Shut up! Eat one more handful of sand
and you won’t get any dinner!
At which point he’ll either flick the
handful of sand in my direction, or dump it on his own head - before launching
into a mega tanty-style wail that is much louder than his original yelling was.
Should’ve just let him yell at himself and eat sand.
Me to Miss2 : Hey! Stop that! You can only
say that to Poppy, when he’s here. And only whispering. Nobody wants to hear a little
girl using bad words. ENOUGH!
Her response is a mega cheeky grin
that makes me melt, before she screams BULLSHITTTTTTT! again, and rips off her
pants and runs around laughing insanely. I love her the most when she’s
feral, so I completely forgive her and just enjoy the performance at this point.
Me to Miss6 : If you keep singing the wrong words I won’t
let you listen to Katy Perry anymore. Ever. And there will be no
more McDonalds. Ever.
She will completely ignore me, as if I’ve
been whispering this from the next suburb.
RIGHT!! That’s it! I’ve had
enough! EVERYBODY GET INSIDE NOWWWWW!
The ranty yelling continues once everyone has been herded
inside, and is still quite audible, despite our efforts to muffle the noise by
closing all doors and windows.
As if the last 60 minutes of un-muffled full-volume noise pollution hasn't already damaged our reputation and the neighbours' hearing.
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So to my neighbours and my own local council, thank
you. Sincerely, thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Because
I’m quite sure my own family breaks all number of local council noise
regulations, and yet, nobody has complained. Yet.
In case you were ready to complain : Just be grateful you're not living next door to Octomom.
I am so please I live on a farm where no one but family can hear me. You'd think I was a fish monger's wife. Maybe I was in a past life.... Anyhow, I won't dob you in to council.
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