Fuck You Mister Rogers!

So we have new neighbors across the road… for a second time. You may recall a few years back I took a store bought apple cake, on a pretty plate and pretended I baked it, to our neighbor’s house. I’d accidentally left the receipt stuck to the bottom of the plate and well…. that was the last time we saw them.

Well, there’s new folks and hubby says that I should bring them something. Bring them something? Who brought me something when we moved? Nobody! Most importantly, why does one have to bring something to be considered neighborly? Couldn’t we just go and say, “welcome,”?

And because I do not feel the hankering to purchase baked goods as a welcoming to our street since this isn’t Wisteria Lane and other than an occasional pulling out the garbage cans now and again, we’ll never interact, what is the point? Yes, I could be nice and go say hello… but I’m not interested in starting a new friendship based upon location.

If we lived on top of our neighbors and kids played in the streets like circa 1950, then a cake would suffice. But since we live on a street where one has to drive to get their mail, I don’t see the point other than just being kind.

Jesus, I mean hubby, you take the wheel on this one.

About Lady in Red

mom of 3
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