October 29, 2009 by Marj Hatzell
We still have three houses up for grabs. And all three are on my side of the street. On my block, even. Three out of the four houses DIRECTLY next to mine.
Is it something we said?
Just in case you were thinking it was THE REMAINING NEIGHBORS, I will clarify why they are all moving. An older gentleman lived in the house four houses down and his wife died last year. He recently had a stroke and moved in with his daughter. So his overpriced dilapidated fixer-upper is for sale (estates are always interesting). Two houses down the older couple is moving because THEY HATE KIDS. Or, more precisely, she does. These are the lovely neighbors who called the cops when we roasted marshmallows with the kids. The also complain when the kids write on the sidewalk with chalk. You know, because it’s not like chalk washes off or anything.
The one that is hitting us the hardest, though, is our next-door neighbors. Polite Boy, Little Miss and Middle Child (and their parents. And dogs. But you probably knew that) are moving. We are very, very, VERY upset about this. And they kinda don’t want to move but have no choice. Unfortunately, their landlord was a total bung-hole and didn’t bother to make payments on the mortgage on the house or pay taxes for two years. TWO YEARS. And he never told them. Just kept going like it was business as usual, never mentioning a word until someone showed up at their door and served papers. Less than sixty days ago they found out the house was going for sheriff’s sale and they had to find a new place and they weren’t happy about it, since they lived here for four years. Our kids are friends, I watch their kids on occasion, our dogs play together. It sucks. These are the kinds of neighbors that we can borrow spaghetti sauce or a cup of sugar from (and do, more frequently than we’d both like to admit). Our boys are best chums. We talk over the fence nearly every evening when our kids are playing and we take walks on nice nights all over the neighbor hood and talk about nothing everything. We were married on the same day (same year), have the same dishes, our husbands went to high school together and we found out we are related (distant cousins, but STILL!). And they tolerate Bugaboo hoping the fence and running into the house. Mostly.
Let’s just say that with them moving, there will be a big, gaping hole in our neighborhood.
The good news is that they found a new place that is twice the size for the same price in the same school district. Our kids will still see each other at school. We can still have playdates and sleepovers. But it won’t be the same. We are really, REALLY gonna miss them.
Please, someone with kids move here! QUICK! Your only requirements (besides the ability to pay the mortgage on any of the three properties) is that you have to like kids, have to tolerate them turning around in your driveway with their bikes, must like dogs, must like attending camp fires in the backyard during the summer, must be willing to lend me a jar of sauce when I forget it or hand me my spare house key when I lock myself out. Oh, and you have to want to live in a really awesome school district. And? You have to be willing to have a half-nekkid seven-year-old in your house or yard once in a while. That’s all. Pretty easy, really.