To quote a cheesy theme song: “Everybody needs good neighbours.” The song ends: “Neighbours… should be there for one another….that’s when good neighbours become good friends.” I beg to differ….. When the wine gets flowing, THAT is when good neighbours become the BEST of friends.
I have always liked my neighbours – all four sets (it’s a long story that has to do with a few pan handles). We have tea, our kids have play dates, and we try not to annoy each other in so far as possible. We borrow eggs, stock cubes, and the occasional bottle of wine, and all in all, we live in a mutually beneficial, peaceful suburbia. Until just recently… when one little party took us from Stepford to Wisteria Lane, faster than you could fall over a fence. Fortunately, photographic evidence emerged that enabled us all to piece together the fragments of what we could remember.
To give you a little idea of how this party evolved, here is a brief, step-by-step reconstruction:
Cute, isn’t it. That’s me and my beloved, sharing a sweet moment in the Photo Booth. Notice how our heads are inclined toward one another in the last image – this body language shows that we are made for one another, and considerate of each others feelings. Neither one of us plays a dominant role, but rather we are a mutually exclusive, happy couple who operate on a basis of equality and acceptance.
This is me and my neighbour, having fun with the camera. It was cute and playful, and cemented a burgeoning friendship. Like a small sapling, with enough love and a liberal sprinkling of water (that’s a metaphor for working hard at the friendship and appreciating all our special times!) this would likely become a life-long camaraderie.
That is NOT my husband.
What the hell is on my head?
So, at around this time, the wheels fell off.
I have to say, that this Photo Booth was the highlight of the evening. No wait, that would be a lie. It may have been the Jukebox. Either way, I cancelled my ENT check up for the following week, due to the flaring up of “the nodules” (I have blogged about these before, in case you missed it) I couldn’t face him, I just couldn’t.
The evening culminated in most of us jumping into the swimming pool fully clothed. I think I performed the most spectacular pirouette over the swimming pool net, but that may have been wishful thinking. (This little adventure also cost one x iphone and one x Samsung S4, neither mine, thank goodness)
The point, I am making, however is that THAT party, changed everything. My neighbours ROCK. The evening started out a bit stilted, naturally. One tends to always put one’s best foot forward in these situations. Early conversations were along the lines of:
“I love what you’ve done with the wallpaper in the entrance hall.”
“Oh thank you, I’m not sure about the colour, though.”
“When are you sending your little one to school?”
“I’m not sure that she’s ready, possibly in a few months.”
And then, later:
“How many scones in the airconditioning?”
“I eat feathers.”
“Snakes and peanut butter.”
“In my left shoe.”
And it all made perfect sense, you know….
Just to be clear, we are all perfectly normal, fully-functional, mature adults. We’re good parents, we have respectable jobs, and contrary to what you may be thinking, there is not an alcoholic amongst us. But when neighbours are good, good times are sure to go bad!
Here is a montage of a few choice moments:
Happy Thursday, everyone!
Originally posted on Melissa’s blog.