I’m a huge proponent of using my sense of humor as a coping mechanism for life. Sure, it may sometimes – often, even – be inappropriate, but it’s what works for me. I have young children now, so I can’t drink to self-medicate. I’m also not on any type of prescribed medication. That leaves giggling.
That being said, it is a glorious thing when you’re at the end of your rope and life serves you up a comedic amuse bouche. It’s even better when it’s at the expense of someone who is just begging for it. It’s like those wonderful and rare times when you’re on the interstate and some imbecile driving like a maniac almost runs you off the road at 90+ mph and several miles later you see them pulled over getting a (hopefully) really expensive ticket. They even have the audacity to look pissed about it. I love those times.
Anyway. We have these neighbors whom I call Todd and Margo. It’s a total Christmas Vacation reference to Clark Griswold’s snooty neighbors. Our Todd and Margo are seriously on par with the supposed fictional versions. They once yanked up a perfectly good crape myrtle tree only to plant another one in the same place so it would be more symmetrical with the one on the other side of the yard. Todd drives a BMW (no crime there, mind you….) which he races through the neighborhood while playing rave/techno music at high volumes. This guy is a freaking investment banker, not some club kid. Todd Jr, their son, threw rocks at the stroller the first time I took Stella out for a walk. He since loves to ride his 4 wheeler through people’s yards. They don’t speak to us, not counting the time Margo popped in to see if I would buy some pyramid scheme product she was pushing. These. People. Are. Obnoxious.
The city of Baton Rouge is rehabbing the entire sewer system. As such, they’re going through town neighborhood by neighborhood F’ing things up in order to fix them. You know. Government at work. The contractors left their thunder hut on Todd and Margo’s front yard.
I’m still laughing.