Despite my sunny disposition and engaging smile, if we are going to be friends I must warn you about a couple of things – I have very little patience and I am not good with emotionally needy people.
My co-worker and I have a deal. I will happily deal with the mentally ill and the mean people, but she takes those consumers who need a best friend. Those who want their hand held and turn what should be a 20 minute meeting into a 90 minute ordeal. It is just not my thing.
With that said, I have once again discovered a new facet of suburbia – the needy neighbor. (dun dun daaaaaa)
I am a friendly enough member of the cul-de-sac. I wave to people as I pull in from my day at work (did I mention the amount of working mothers in my neighborhood is in the single digits!) I will exchange the usual pleasantries while walking the dog or retrieving the newspaper, and even complain about the HOA’s failure to fix the potholes on our otherwise peaceful street - but I do not feel the need to create a relationship with every person within eyesight.
I do not need to be best friends with the other mothers in the neighborhood or to join sides in the war between those of us on the upper street and those in the lower circle.
In a cruel twist of fate, my new home is located next to one of the neediest and neurotic women I have ever met. She also, just happens to be mother to the little home intruder I have previous mentioned.
Twice now, she has cornered my husband and asked if I was mad at her. It seems that I must have failed to return the customary good morning, afternoon, or evening wave that is so popular in the community. Whereas most people (or at least I) would assume that I had simply failed to notice her, Mama Needy assumes that she must have offended me in some way.
The hubby, who is very aware of my feelings in these situations, gleefully relayed the last incident to me as we settled into bed this past evening.
The following is a dramatic recreation of actual (or not) events:
Me: Good Night My Love
Hubby: Good Night. Oh did I mention that Ms. Neurotic (not her real name) and I took the trash out together today.
Me: mmmm… that’s nice (snuggling down)
Hubby: (feigning innocence) she wanted to know if you hated her.
Me: (fully awake) what????
Hubby: She was hurt that you ignored her on her way home yesterday.
Me: Jesus Crispies – what did you tell her?
Hubby: that you must have noticed the sparks between the two of us and realized that our marriage is doomed as long as she lives so close. Oh and that you are socially retarded.
Okay – he didn’t actually tell her the last part. Mr. Nice Guy reassured her that I am just not very observant and no slight was intended.
Home Sweet Home – again!
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