Now I Wonder What the Neighbors Really Think of Us

A little while ago, as I came up stairs with a load of laundry on my hip, I saw two members of Fairfax County’s finest standing at my doorstep.

Puzzled, I assumed something had happened to a neighbor and they were asking follow up questions. Otherwise, why in the world would they be at OUR front door on a rainy Sunday morning? Afterall, we’re boring, law abiding, concerned citizens.
Apparently some anonymous neighbors of ours called the police, reporting that they heard loud noises and breaking glass from our house. (!)
Now that was news to me.

For our neighbors to have heard anything, this would have to have been one heck of a crazy loud fight. Not just a glass slipping from our hand. My short term memory might be, um short, but I think I’d remember something like that happening.

I gave the police my very best “what the heck” look and assured them that no such noises had occured from our townhouse. Clearly the snitches neighbors had the wrong house.

It’s been a pleasant morning. I didn’t beat or threaten to beat anyone and I didn’t throw any remotes (which I did a looooooong time ago, and although all is forgiven, it is still brought up in conversation occasionally). Craig went for a run in the rain, Caroline has been peacefully playing Webkinz with her friend and I’ve been doing laundry.
No yelling. No glass breaking. No tantrums or screaming fits.

I really hope they heard wrong and gave the wrong house number.

I refrained from saying anything smart alecky while the police were at our doorstep, but after they left, I said to Craig, “so you finally called the cops on me.”
All these years he’s been claiming husband abuse; evidently the last straw broke and he ratted me out.

In all honesty, I teeter on the fiery side, but have become much more even keeled in the past few years. I haven’t thrown anything in a very long time. I did stomp on some cookies a few years back, and my favorite cookie container came to an untimely crushing demise in the more recent past. That’s ok, I have two! Surprisingly the fights causing me to stomp were not about cookies, I just happened to be doing cookie related business when they occured.

I cannot believe I just admitted this.

I have no shame.

And now I’ve got to get moving; Caroline has a birthday party to attend. The birthday girl was going to have a bounce house at the party, but it’s raining. She’s probably devastated. Now her parents will be equally, if not more, devastated since they’ll have to entertain a gaggle of seven year old girls inside their house.
Been there. Done that. So not ever doing it again.

Oh, it’s also my parent’s 34th anniversary today.
Happy Anniversary, mom and dad!
Here’s hoping the cops don’t come to your door today!

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2 responses

  1. Wow. You’ve been caught! You remote thrower, you. Look at it this way, at least your neighbors cared enough about you to worry if something was going on. It may have been a mistake, but if it hadn’t been (and it had been another arguing couple) the woman might have been glad for a little help!

  2. I know where you got the destroying things when mad gene…and here’s a hint: It’s NOT from me!Finally, something I can’t be blamed for! (Grammar lesson: That should read: Something for which I can’t be blamed. However, that sounds snooty.)We went to a fab Sunday buffet yesterday in Howey-in-the-Hills. Yum.It’s all about the food…

Yo.

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