Neighbor to neighbor

 

Lately, life is stressful. We are in the process of looking for a new place to live. The landlord is selling our home and we have until August 1st.

It’s causing quite the stress for me! For several reasons - one, who wants to move? It's such a task! Two, Kipper tells people it's because we can't pay the bill...(not true) Finally and MOST importantly, how am I ever going to find neighbors like I have now?

So, for my neighbors-to-be I have developed a check list:

I don’t own a coffee pot, so you will be responsible for making coffee for me in the morning.  I like cream and lots of sugar. I also never bring my own cup, so you will need to purchase 16 oz. Styrofoam cups. Because if I take your cup, you will never see it again.

I don’t cook. So at least four nights a week, my husband will ask me to ask you what you made for dinner. If he likes it, he will ask me to ask you if he can have some.

We don’t own a lawn mower so you will be responsible for cutting our grass…oh by the way, first you have to clear the yard of the million soccer balls, goals and army men.

When we go out of town you will be responsible for checking our mail and watching the house.

When I run out of toilet paper, dog food, or soap I will come over, let myself in and borrow from you.

You must keep a large supply of juice boxes at your home for my kids. As well, as cookies, cheese and ice cream. My kids will grocery shop at your house, no lie!

My kids must be able to play in your yard…they will not ask permission, and will climb your trees, hide in the bushes dressed as Ninjas and ride their bike in your front yard.

 

My son Kipper will ask twice a week to spend the night…he will also want to take a bath there since he is spending the night. His decision, not mine.

My kids will sometimes be rude and ignore you when you come over to our house, or tell you to go home.

Finally, when my kids are sick and can’t go to school I will walk them over to your house so they can in your bed watching TV while I am at work.

If you know of someone or somewhere that fits this description please, let us know. While we sound like a lot to handle, we give just as much as we take. (Except for the cooking part) Just ask GiGi and Paw Paw our current neighbors.

 

 

 

Chewing the fat with Romeo

My baby turned six earlier this month, and my first baby will celebrate his 8^th birthday in a few weeks.

I am having hot flashes already thinking of their girl crazed days ahead – who am I kidding those days are here now.

On a recent trip to Disney World, for a Soccer tournament, our resort was inundated with College cheerleaders and dance teams from across the nation! Kipper won a dance off and Noah chased down girls twice his age to tell them, “call me.”

 

 

Let me just say, I had a glimpse of what the future holds for my two Romeos come the year 2020. Noah will be able to drive and no doubt Kipper will be riding shotgun. I can already hear a Justin Beiberish musician blasting from the speakers, while my boys check out “hot girls.”

Being the mother of two boys comes with a big responsibility…making sure my “lover boys” grow up to be gentlemen.

I try and teach them, girls like smart boys, who do well in school and mind their manners.

Which in turn garners the question…”Is that why you married Dad?”

“Um…yeah, that’s exactly why.”

 

I also tell them looks aren’t important and one day they will fade – and your son or daughter will describe your then hot wife as “fat and old.”

True story.

Just last week, someone told Kipper they met a woman who knows him.

“Who?” Kipper asked.

“Well, she looked a lot like your Mom,” the person answered.

“Oh, so she was fat?” Kipper replied.

Realizing he had made a huge infraction describing me as fat, he quickly corrected himself and said…"I meant old, not fat.”

Actually, I do prefer old to fat – so thank you, Kipper D.

UPDATE: Noah is now 8, still girl crazy and so is Kipper.

I took the boys to rent 'Wreck it Ralph' the movie. Noah thanked me for taking them and Kipper as he is getting out of the car thanked me in his own special way.

He said, "You look skinny Mom!"

Awe, son...thank you! And to your future wife, "You're welcome."