I am the crazy neighbor lady, and I love it

Scene: A pleasant afternoon. Dinner is marinating in the fridge, the kids are out playing, I’m trying to get some writing done.

 

DING DONG.

 

I open the door to find one of the neighborhood girls (age 9) pointing dramatically at an unfamiliar neighborhood child on a scooter (age approximately 7, giggling uncontrollably).

 

Small neighbor child: Miss Penelope! This girl! Ran over! A unicorn. ON HER SCOOTER.

Me: OMG. IS THE UNICORN OKAY?

Small neighbor child: I don’t know!

Me: That’s horrible! (to the giggling child) Couldn’t you have stopped?!?! Aren’t there brakes on that menacing contraption under your control?

Giggling Delinquent child: No!

Me: What? Do you even have a license to drive?

Giggling Delinquent child: No!

Me: OH THE HUMANITY. I can’t bear it! Won’t somebody think of the baby unicorns???

 

The girls run off, I close the door, return to my desk, and write exactly one sentence. It’s not even a long sentence.

 

DING DONG.

 

Small neighbor child: Miss Penelope–

Me, tearfully: Is the unicorn okay?

Small neighbor child: Yes! See, it’s right here! It’s fine.

Me: ….That’s a chalk drawing of a unicorn.

Small neighbor child: Yes!

Me: I THOUGHT YOU MEANT A REAL UNICORN.

Small neighbor child: No!

Me: I was about to call animal control!

Small neighbor child: You don’t call animal control about a unicorn!

Me: You don’t?

Small neighbor child: No! You call the vet!

Me, doing my best Gilda Radner imitation: Ooooohhhhhhhhhh. Never mind!

 

Just so everyone knows, imitations of Helen Lovejoy and Gilda Radner are completely lost on the 9-year-old set.

Posted in in the neighborhood, my life.

2 Comments

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.