I posted this and no sooner but Mrs. R was on the phone inviting Sweet Boy & I to dinner…. Who says giving your friends your blog url is a bad thing?
And our receptionist scheduled the second annual sangria party at her house for August 20th so I will get to check that off the list too.
Sunday afternoon I loaded Sweet Boy into the wheelie-stroller and marched down the hill to the newest neighbor’s house. As luck would have it… they were home.
People, I think my new neighbor might be a Stepford Wife. At minimum, she’s a pod person.
Picture this: She’s wearing a pink t-shirt with sequins & rhinestones on it tucked into her “we belong to a country club” skort. (Tucked in. On a Sunday afternoon.) Her hair is fixed in big wavy curls & she has on pink glitter eyeshadow & full face-paint. (I swear, I think she was wearing high-heeled mules…. But that might have been my imagination.) She’s slim & very attractive and she is making cookies. She home-schools their four children and her husband (he was wearing deck shoes & pleated khaki shorts…. And I am NOT making that up….) is a “mental health professional” and just moved to a new, bigger office in town. Yes, he’s going to have a good time analyzing us, isn’t he? While I was there he lit a fire in the woodstove to burn garbage. (Do I need to note how odd this is?? It’s August. He’s burning junk mail. What?)
It was just a touch surreal. Just a touch. Hell. Our number is in the phone book and our name is on the mail box…. She could just call at any time. I can only hope she doesn’t invite me over for a Tupperware party… or a homeschool supply party…. Or a sex toy party… oh, well, she could invite me over for a sex toy party…. I’d go to that.