Voisins gênants.

I'm not one of those people who is super friendly with their neighbors. I'm not unfriendly, but, if you don't approach me, I probably won't go out of my way to talk to you either. I'm ok with the status quo, I know 5 out of my nine cul-de-sac neighbors--not too shabby. I think I would know more if the weather in the northwest were not so foul for 2/3 of a the year; neighbors seem to be fair-weather friends.

Tonight I was in my front yard painting some flower boxes and a picket fence when I overheard one of my neighbors say, "It's really good stuff that we got. I hope we don't get arrested." He said this to his wife as they were unloading their baby and toddler from their car. And this was after they were home, packed up the kids and the car and left, only to come back 30 minutes later. It's statements like that that make my mind reel.

My first thought, naturally, was drugs. "Kids, you remember Pepper Jack. He's going to hook Mommy and Daddy up with some crack rock. Thanks Pepper Jack! See you next week."

My next thought: terrorism. I'm not sure what they could be cooking up over there, but maybe I should call homeland security. Wait, shh shh, do you hear that? What's that weird sound? No, no, they just want you to think that's their air conditioner, but really it's some thing they said we would find in Iraq.


After several scenarios like this, I decided he probably has a sense of humor like me, and also like me, says things too loudly which could be misconstrued out of context. One of my windows overlooks their backyard, I'll keep my eye open. I wonder what's going on in that huge shed they built last summer. No, this is crazy, they are good, drug-free people. Maybe I should throw a neighborhood barbecue so that I can figure him out. Or maybe, I should go Tom Hanks in "The 'burbs" on them and figure out what is REALLY going on. I wonder if Corey Feldman is available...