Dear Neighbors

Dear Neighbors,

I apologize for my dog that screams like a banshee and ruins everyone’s quiet. I’m especially sorry if you’ve had to explain to guests that a tortured woman is not screaming and this really is a nice neighborhood. We had to do that just the other day when a mom dropped off our daughter’s friend for the first time ever. In her defense – the dog’s not the mom’s – she has probably seen some shit.

I’m thinking of getting her a thunder shirt.

Sincerely,
Playfully Tacky

 

Dear Neighbors,

I feel bad that our gnome has been tipped face forward for at least a month and we’ve been too lazy to stand him back up. It’s not his fault. Roger’s wife left him recently for a lawn ornament down the street and he has been hitting the bottle to dull the pain. Try to be patient with him; he doesn’t have the strength to stand.

Sincerely,
Playfully Tacky

 

Dear Neighbors,

I’m sorry that you have to listen to my family repeat “Go Potty!” over and over again waiting for our small dog to do his business. If we don’t say it, he will just make a circle and come back inside. Then he shits in the bathroom. So, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. I’ll try to refrain if you have having a barbeque in your backyard.

Sincerely,
Playfully Tacky

 

Dear Neighbors,

I realize you had to listen to our shrieks as we washed our hair in the sink last night. I’ll take the blame for that one. Our hot water has been out since Saturday afternoon. Fixing it ourselves failed and, with the iced-over roads, we haven’t been able to get the plumber out yet. We don’t know any of you well enough to borrow your shower and I decided not to invade a friend’s home with my cabin-fevered-stricken family. Big mistake. Turns out washing your hair in the coldest of cold water in 20-degree weather is painful.

Live and learn.

Sincerely,
Playfully Tacky

Author

2 comments

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: