monkeys and marbles

farewell neighbour…you will not be missed

Posted on: October 15, 2007

warning: i’m about to get all profane on your asses…it’s my neighbour’s fault! 

yes, my neighbour is moving. oh happy day!

can you tell i don’t like them? ya. i mean…the kids are okay….well the youngest is. the older one, Alex (who they started calling Xander after my Zander was born…which just pisses me off to no end) is in desperate need of….well….a different type of discipline than he’s getting.

my strained relationship with said neighbours started within days of hubby and i moving into this house. i was in the front yard trying to tame the jungle that was the lawn and garden (the house had been empty for 8 months before we bought it) when the husband…let’s call him Mr. Asswipe…came over to introduce himself. he proceeded to talk crap about everyone else on the street, including our next-door neighbours with who we’ve become very close, and told me who was getting divorced and who was doing who on the street. classy. when he was done dishing, he started to make his back across the street where his wife, Mrs. Asswipe, was calling for him. he got halfway across the street before he turned and came running back. “what was your name again? i already forgot…i’ve had a few beers! heh heh heh”.

ya…that set the tone right there.

over the years, these neighbours have continually horrified us…whether it was the way they treated their kids, or they way they acted in public and treated other neighbours. we’ve done our best to avoid them, ducking into our car before they could say something, going all secret-agent and hiding from them in the local grocery store, ducking in behind displays, peeking out the end of aisles before we make a run for the next one. unfortunately, i could never seem to shake Mrs. Asswipe…she would always catch me…”Hi Cathy!”, she’d yell from across the street with a fake smile and a wave. it was all i could do to stop myself from screaming ” How. Many. Times. Do. I. Have. To. Tell. You? My. Name. Is. Not. CATHY!”

the first full summer we lived here, i was sitting on the front step reading. i was jolted from my fantasy-land by the sounds of their son Alex-Xander playing. he was riding his trike up and down their driveway…cute. until Mr. Asswipe came into the picture. he asked Alex-Xander to put his trike away but, being the three year-old that he was, he continued to ride his trike happily up and down the driveway. now, a sane parent would ask him again…perhaps give him some sort of warning of toy-confiscation. but no…that wasn’t Mr. Asswipe’s style. he proceeded to yank Alex-Xander off his trike by his arm and throw his trike into the open garage with such force that it hit the back wall. “what is wrong with you?” he yelled. “i’m fucking sick of you!”…and then he stormed off into the house. my jaw dropped. looking back on it, i wish i had had the courage to call someone about it…not that he ever hit his children…but there is a right way to talk to your children, and then there is his way.

a couple of years later, hubby and i were building a patio/walkway/walled-garden in the front yard. it was lucky we were there…Mrs. Asswipe came running across the street screaming…she had locked her daughter in the house. i can’t remember how old she was at the time, but she had just started walking. anyway, she enlisted hubby to break into the house while she went to pick up her son and some other kids from school. i stayed by the front door which had a sidelight…i wanted to keep an eye on her if i could…while hubby went around back and broke in through a window. when Mrs. Asswipe returned, she promised hubby a case of beer for his help. and it was never spoken of again. Mr. Asswipe didn’t even mention it. strange.

a couple of weeks ago, he came to our door. he told Carlos (i said hi to him, but he totally acted like i wasn’t even there…i guess i’m just a silly woman!) that he was being transferred to the Maritimes, and had to sell his house. he needed the name of our agent and wanted to borrow our nail gun to do some trim work. hallelujah!

a few days later we were in the front yard playing with the boys. Mr. Asswipe was in his front yard. his garage door was open, as was the back hatch of his mini-van. i have no idea what he was doing, but whatever it was, it wasn’t going well. he looked into the back of the van and started yelling “you stupid bitch…you stupid fucking bitch!”. then he started throwing things into the van, pulling stuff out of the van, throwing stuff into the garage…it was chaos. “fuck me! oh, fuck off….stupid fucking shit!”. at that point, it was time to take the boys back into the house. if my boys are gonna learn to swear, they’re gonna learn it from their momma! and it won’t be till they’re much older!

since we’re not moving until February, i didn’t want to have to put up with the family Asswipe until then. well, i’m glad to say that Mr.Asswipe and Mrs. Asswipe have sold their house. i think he’s already left to start his new job, and the rest of them will be following soon.

cue the choirs!

i just hope they don’t skip town before they give us back our nail gun!

5 Responses to "farewell neighbour…you will not be missed"

Oh thank goodness!!! Sounds like they needed to leave!!

I’m singing along with that choir babe! Yay!

This is the second post I’ve read today about crappy neighbors. Although I don’t have particularly good neighbors, I don’t have anyone like these people!!! What jerks. So glad they are moving and you won’t have to deal with them anymore!

*Hallelujah! Hallelujah!*

*Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hall-e-eh-lu-yah!*



OMG, how I wish there was a place we could send all bad neighbors so they can drive each other nuts.

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October 2007
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