Just to make this more fun

I found out that my next door neighbor called the cops on us the day before yesterday... TWICE.

Apparently he is closely monitoring the construction at my house looking for trouble. Apparently the demolition crew started to work before 8 am. That was the first problem. I would point out that when they had the work done on their house after the fire (a million years ago... or when I was pregnant with Imelda) the work started att 7am... on the dot. Did I call the cops? No? The second problem was actually more serious. While the porch was being pulled down, one of the pillars fell and cracked the sidewalk leading to my neighbors back yard. My neighbor called the police and his Daddy. The result? We pored them new concrete from our basement pour. When they had their work done? and they sprayed broken glass all over my yard? AND I had small children, did I complain? NO!

Now you may be thinking, "Did I read that right? He called his Daddy?" Oh yes. See my troublesome neighbor is not the man who owns the house, but his son. How old is this son? Well, I was 25 when we moved in here. This "boy" was 19. Freddy lives and works with Daddy and has never been away except for a 3 month period when he moved in with a girlfriend.

I have had issues with Freddy over the years.. Like when he was shooting M-80s down the alley when the Angel was a baby. The fact that he didn't pay the slightest attention to the fact she was in the yard and that rocks and glass were flying around was irrelevant. Except to me.

Most recently we argued over my dog. A couple of times, my not so clever pooch got loose and ran around the neighborhood and jumped and barked. She always runs and barks but that is it. One evening, Freddy threatened to shoot both me and the dog. It was after midnight. I thought that I was letting the dog out for a quick pee... instead she was trying to figure out what was going on in the front yard where Freddy was drinking and playing with his dog and a squeeky toy.

Fun Daddy was out of town, the kidlettes were asleep, so I quick pulled on a robe (the only thing I was wearing.. ) and let poochie out. I had no idea that she was really upset by he stuff going on out front. That was a fun experience.

Never let it be said that Maman does not admit to faults.. and one of them is that she has a potty mouth... Yes, Jim and Dr. Randy.. I believe you remember this fault.. Let's just say it got worse. Let's say, that a British Longshoreman would have nothing on me. You know what you can do with yourself if you have issues with my language! However given this, I thought what I told the "boy" under the circumstances were pretty mild.

I reminded him that I have put up with my fair share of guff from him. Fireworks, pot parties when his folks were out of town, etc. I pointed out that I neither tattled on him nor called the cops.. so I expected him to suck it up and stop being an asshole. This of course was his great objection... I called him an asshole. As if I couldn't add loser into the mix.

Of course he told his Daddy that I called him an asshole. And things have been down hill ever since. Stupid drunk loser boy tells overtired, overstressed, virtually naked mother of two with a wild running dog that he will shoot her... and she calls him an asshole.

I'm sorry who is at fault here?

Half naked woman.. naturally... loser boy can't cope.

Now he is looking for ways to punish me...

Their house is for sale... would someone sane please buy it?