And I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats..............

 Alternate title:  "Giving in to assimilation"


Several years ago, I wrote a post about technology. I might have likened people using hands free Bluetooth headsets to the Borg from Star Trek.

You have to admit, it's a little scary.

I used to silently (and sometimes not so silently) mock the people who wore these devices in public. 

I thought they looked silly.

 Because, seriously, they had to have those things stuck in their ear all the time, I began to wonder if some of them had actually had these devices surgically installed in their brains.

They were everywhere, the grocery store, restaurants, sporting events, these people were everywhere!

Then my husband decided that I should have one for my phone so my hands would be free so I could talk on the phone while driving or working.

At first I didn't think it would make that much difference, (and I don't get that many calls while in the car anyway) but then I tried the headset.

(choirs of angels singing)

I was immediately converted to the use of this funny looking little gadget, especially when I discovered that I could use it to watch movies and listen to music from my phone. No more getting bored while waiting at the orthodontist or dentist! (or anywhere else)

The best part is that my hair is long enough that it covers the device and no one can see that I'm using it!

Then random people started talking to me out of the blue. Apparently, when people can't see the Bluetooth, they automatically assume that I'm talking to them, which I guess is understandable.....

Then last week my brother called me and handed the phone to his super adorable, newly potty trained 2 1/2 year old daughter. I had a conversation with her while walking into the store. I noticed that people were giving me strange looks and I thought they were being rude.

Until I realized that they were only hearing my side of the conversation.

"Wow! Big girl underwear are awesome! You're such a big girl, using the potty! I'm so proud of you for using the potty! I think daddy should give you a treat for being such a big girl!" 

Perhaps I shall start wearing my hair in a ponytail.

Spam spies?

I have been getting emails from Groupon for a while now.

I can't remember if I actually signed up to get these, of if they got my email address by less ethical ways, either way, I've been getting at least one email a day from Groupon.

At first, they were offering me deals on things such as salon services, massages, weekend getaway packages at nice hotels. They also told me about discounts I could get at nice restaurants, flower shops and theaters.

A few weeks ago, I started to notice a trend in the type of deals being offered to me.

First I received several offers for a discount on lipo/laser treatments.

Next, they sent me offers for a discount on teeth whitening.

At first I didn't think much of it, but then over the next week, I recieved offers for laser hair removal, Botox, Microdermabrasion, sunless tanning and yoga classes.*

I began to wonder if someone from Groupon was stalking me..........

I really began to worry when they suggested I get a good deal on their carpet shampooing and house cleaning services.

Have Groupon spies been in my home???

I really hope that they haven't been spying on me, especially after getting the email, letting me know of the great deal I can get on"colon hydrotherapy."

*I'm choosing to be offended.

Wearing red high heels doesn't automatically make you patriotic

This post should have been written several weeks ago, but it wasn't so just deal with it :)

On the fourth of July, we took the kids to a local minor league baseball game because they were going to have fireworks at the end of the game, and it had been a while since we had taken the kids to see fireworks (other than the ones we would do in our driveway)

We had some pretty good seats, front row, just behind the visiting team's bullpen. We sat and enjoyed most of the game, the weather was perfect, the kettle corn delicious, and the home team was winning.

Around the end of the 6th inning a couple walked toward us. The girl was wobbling along in super high red heels, denim daisy duke shorts and a super tight tank top. She stopped in front of us, put one hand on her hip and wiggled two fake fingernail-tipped fingers at me and Max, and said "WE are sitting there!"

I thought this was really strange, because, obviously, I was sitting there and so was Max, while she was standing in front of us with a really big attitude.....

Her date leaned toward her and said, "No, we're on the row behind them."

She pulled a face and then strutted past us.

Her date looked quite embarrassed and apologized to us as he followed her.

She sat in the seat directly behind us and her date told her that she needed to slide one more seat over. "WHY, aren't these our seats either?" the lady sitting next to her had her toddler daughter on her lap and said "Actually, that's our seat, but she probably won't be sitting in it, she wants to sit on my lap, so you can stay there if you want"

The girl (we'll call her "Ditsy") then made a very loud comment about how stupid the music was, because back when she worked at this ball park as a teenager, they only played awesome music.

Ditsy then told her date that she needed a beer. He said "We just sat down, I'll go get you one when this inning is over." The lady on the other side of them overheard this and told them that they usually stopped selling beer after the seventh inning, so they might want to go get it now.

For the next half inning, the game was quite enjoyable, without the running commentary of Ditsy, however, when they came back, it started up again.

"Here, she said to the lady next to them, I hope you like Budweiser!" and she thrust a large glass of beer toward her.

"Oh........ummmm...I don't drink."

Ditsy turned to her date and said "SEE! I TOLD YOU SHE DIDN'T DRINK!" then she sat down and proceeded to start drinking her beer.

The non drinking lady next to her turned out to be quite a loyal fan of the home team. She was able to tell us all about the players and kept Ditsy informed on all the rules of the game.

(which seemed strange to me since she had worked there for several years as a teenager, in fact, to hear Ditsy tell about that time, she practically ran the place)

Just then, a foul ball was hit in our direction.

"OH LOOK!" yelled Ditsy "It's a FLY BALL!"

"Actually" said Baseball fan lady (from now on referred to as BFL)"It's a foul ball"

"Fly ball, foul ball, same thing!"

"No" corrected BFL "They are not the same thing, a foul ball is when it goes out of bounds and is out of play."

Ditsy (who has now finished about half of her beer) says "Whatever...." then she says "You know, I really HATE BASEBALL! It's so boring, I never liked watching the games when I worked here."

Just then, a batter hit a line drive to the pitcher, who threw the ball to first base, and the batter was out.

The crowd cheered and Ditsy needed to know what happened. BFL said "They threw him out at first!"

'WHAT? THEY THREW MUD ON FIRST? WHY WOULD THEY THROW MUD ON FIRST? THAT'S STUPID!"

BFL then had to explain to her what happened, and that the batter was now out and would no longer be running around the bases, to which Ditsy replied "I HATE BASEBALL!"

Since we were sitting right by the visiting team's bullpen, we were able to watch the pitcher warming up. He was doing various stretches and Ditsy said "WHAT IS THAT GUY DOING WITH HIS ARMS?

BFL then had to explain to her about how he was warming up his muscles so he could throw the ball better and have a lower chance of injury, to which Ditsy replied "I HATE BASEBALL!"

BFL continued conversations with Ditsy, explaining to her everything that was happening and at one point after a certain exciting play, Ditsy was screaming "What happened? What happened?" and after BFL explained it to her she said "That's why I HATE BASEBALL because the ball goes so fast I can't see where it's going!"

Then Ditsy started to talk about herself "I'm just finishing up my degree in public relations!" she excitedly told BFL who asked her what kind of work she planned on doing after graduating. "Well." said Ditsy "Believe it or not, I'm thinking about going to LAW SCHOOL!"

Then turning back to the game she said "I HATE BASEBALL!"

Finally, the end of the game came, (along with the end of Ditsy's beer, and I suspect a good amount of the extra beer...) the home team won, and everyone in the general admission seats in the grass on the other side of the outfield needed to move onto the playing field because the fireworks were being launched too close to where they were sitting. This took quite a while to get everyone moved, and Ditsy spent the whole time rambling on about herself.

When everyone was seated safely on the field and the lights went out for the fireworks, Ditsy leaned over to her date and loudly whispered "I HAVE TO PEE!" He said "The fireworks are starting now, can't you wait until they're over? (Obviously, they had only come for the fireworks, there's no way they came to watch the game because remember, she HATES BASEBALL)

"HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE FOR THEM TO BE OVER?" She asked her date.

BFL leaned over and said "They put on one of the best firework displays in the city, it could be 30-40 minutes long."

"I CAN'T WAIT THAT LONG!" Ditsy said, then proceeded to climb over the family next to them and teeter up the stairs, going as fast as she could with her knees stuck together, just as the fireworks were starting.

She wasn't gone long (or at least long enough.......) and returned to her seat and grabbed the glass with the remaining beer in it.

She watched the fireworks and continued to drink the beer, and then started using some rather foul language, which could still be heard quite clearly over the loud booms of the fireworks (fortunately, after the first firework, Max climbed into my lap, closed his eyes and covered his ears and missed her language)

The lady with the toddler must have glared at her because then I heard Ditsy say "IF YOU WANT US TO BE QUIET, JUST TELL US! DON'T KEEP LOOKING AT US! WE DON'T HAVE KIDS!"

I have no idea what not having kids had to do with anything, but I guess it seemed like an important point to Ditsy, who then continued with her profane language.

The young mom must have looked at her again because then Ditsy said.....

"STOP LOOKING AT US! IF YOU LOOK AT US AGAIN I'M GOING TO THROW BEER IN YOUR FACE!!! DO YOU WANT BEER IN YOUR FACE? LOOK AT US AGAIN AND I'LL THROW IT IN YOUR FACE!!

Nobody dared look at her after that.

The fireworks ended, and everyone cleared out of the stands.

When we left, I saw Ditsy waiting for her date, outside of the men's restroom, chugging what was left of the beer.

I only hope she didn't drive home.....

Top ten things overheard when I was playing Mario Cart on the Wii with my kids

#10. "PUSH THE B BUTTON!!"

#9. "HEY! YOU'RE GOING THE WRONG WAY! WHY ARE YOU GOING THE WRONG WAY!!"

#8. "PUSH THE B BUTTON!!"

#7. "WHERE IN THE HECK IS THE B BUTTON? I CAN'T FIND THE B BUTTON!!!"

#6. "TURN AROUND MOM! YOU'RE STILL GOING THE WRONG WAY!!"

#5. "WHY DO YOU KEEP DRIVING ON THE GRASS?"

#4. "PUSH THE B BUTTON!! PUSH THE B BUTTON!! PUSH THE B BUTTON!! PUSH THE B BUTTON!! PUSH THE B BUTTON!! PUSH THE B BUTTON!! PUSH THE B BUTTON!!"

#3. "YOU FELL OFF THE TRACK AGAIN?? WHY DO YOU KEEP FALLING OFF THE TRACK???"

#2. "PUSH THE B BUTTON!!"

And the #1 thing overheard when I was playing Mario cart on the Wii with my kids...........

"This is what happens when you try to teach stuff to old people."

School Christmas program tutorial

Caution, major rant ahead.

It's that time of year when parents (and grandparents, and some very dedicated aunts and uncles) have the opportunity to attend various holiday themed programs at the schools of the children in their lives.

Having four children, we have had the opportunity to attend several such events over the years. The music and other performances are wonderful, however, due to our experiences, I have compiled a list of things to remember while attending such events.

Seating

If you are saving seats for some late arriving loved ones, please make sure that they are actually planning on attending, and that they know where you are. When there is standing room only at the back of the auditorium, it's rather annoying to see you saving 8 seats for people who never show up.

Also, your two year old/purse/coat can probably sit on your lap. There are sill people standing at the back.

When the director of the event asks you to scoot in to provide more room for those who are still standing, pick up your darn purse and coat and slide over!

Noise

While I'm sure that your young child is really enjoying that noisy toy that you brought to keep them entertained, the rest of us are not, especially when your child starts banging the toy on the metal chair.

When the director of the event stands and asks everyone to quiet down, please, SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP!

When your two young children start fighting and yelling at each other, disturbing people in every direction, please, don't ignore them, or laugh at their antics. When the lady sitting next to me tires of giving you the evil eye in hopes that you will get the hint and quiet or remove your children and finally says to your children "Please be quiet, we didn't come to hear you, we came to hear the kids sing" don't act all offended and irritated. Please, quiet and/or remove your children.

When your child's class is finished, and the next class begins, please realize that the parents of the next group will probably want to listen to their kids too. Be considerate.

Videotaping and photography

If you are filming the program, please do not stand up in the middle of the row. Please move to the side or the back. There may be someone behind you who is filming, or just wishes to see their child. Remember, you make a better door than a window as no one can actually see through you. If you choose to ignore this bit of advice, please, at least stand still so the person who might be filming behind you can see their child without having to dance back and forth and jump up and down. I will not treasure the video of the back of your head as much as I would a video of my child.

Please, remember that your younger child is not transparent either. Please do not let them stand on their chair. They aren't looking at the performance anyway, they are faced backwards, waving to all of the people who's view they are blocking.

If you see someone videotaping, please walk behind them, if you are unable to do this, either wait until they are finished filming, or if you walk in front of them, ducking to avoid blocking the view, please duck low enough that you are actually below their camera lens, otherwise, they will just get a video of you kind of ducking while walking in front of their camera. Again, I will not treasure the video of you imitating the hunchback of Notre Dame.

If everyone follows these common sense suggestions, we can all enjoy our children's Christmas programs!

And if everyone doesn't follow the above advice, I will go ahead and post all the video that I have of the back of peoples heads and the ducking hunchbacks.

Thank you.

Help solve the mystery

Last night around 9:00 p.m. our doorbell rang.
When we got to the door, there was no one there, however, three notes were left between the door and the screen door.

Note #1 said

What's your secret?

Note #2 said

I know you are in the witness protection program

And note #3 said

I know you are Aliens.



What do you think it all means?
Why was there no punctuation used on note #2?
Why does the note writer think that they know so much about us?
Why did they use three pieces of paper when they could have fit everything they needed to say onto one?
Why is this the most interesting thing I can find to blog about?


Why?

Why?

WHY?


Any of your ideas would be appreciated. Leave me a comment.

Thank you.





And just for the record, we are not Aliens, nor are we in the witness protection program. (Not that I would admit it if we were, because that would kind of defeat the purpose of the witness protection program now wouldn't it.)
(But we're really not.)

And the only secret that we might have would be that great big flying saucer in our shed, but I didn't tell you anything about it, mkay?

What's for dinner?

Warning- I'm going to whine!

Have you ever reached the point where you are just so tired of figuring out what to fix for dinner?

I don't mind cooking, in fact, I really enjoy cooking. (the cooking part, not the actual cleaning up part) I have just had it with trying to figure out what I can cook.

No matter what I fix, I know that someone will be unhappy, and possibly highly offended by what I make for the family to eat. Last week as I was fixing dinner, the whole time I was cooking, I knew that one of the children, upon finding out that night's menu, would say something like "Do you really expect me to eat this?" or "You don't love me. If you loved me then you wouldn't fix food that I don't like!" (and they did)

Or my other personal favorite, the glaring at me from across the table, because the food is deemed inedible by a particular child.

The teenager has stopped these things because he recognizes that any food I make is generally edible, and with a hollow leg to fill, one can't be too picky. (which is a refreshing change from when he was younger and a very picky eater)

Max is still in the stage where he will only eat eggo waffles, PB&J sandwiches and Easy mac & cheese. Occasionally, I can get him to try whatever we're having for dinner, he will try one bite, say it's yummy, then refuse to eat any more.

I have always told the kids that they don't have to eat what I fix, they can make something for themselves, however, I'm not a short order cook, and will NOT fix a different meal for everyone.

Still, I do try to fix something that I know that everyone will like. On the rare occasion when I find something that everyone likes, I put it on my "keeper" list and try and fix it again.

The problem is that we still end up eating about the same 8 meals over and over and over.

These are the meals that I have cooked so many times that I could fix them in my sleep.

There's nothing wrong with these, aside from the fact that I am really getting sick of them!

Every once in a while I will try a new recipe, I tried two new recipes last week, and while I did like both of them, (my husband liked them too) the kids weren't in complete agreement.

The one thing that my family all agrees on is my homemade lasagna. Unfortunately, it takes over two hours from start to finish, and that's just not the amount of time that I can spend on dinner every night.

Something that really bugs me is when I get asked, multiple times a day, by multiple family members, my least favorite question "What's for dinner?"

This bothers me because generally, I have no clue what I'm going to make for dinner until I actually start making it.

Today, I made a management decision, and wrote up a menu of what we will be eating for the week. I've written the menu on our big dry erase board in the kitchen, where everyone can see, and prepare alternate food if they so wish.

I even went a step further and decided what I would be fixing for lunches this week too.

I know that I still won't make everyone happy, but at least I'll know what I'm doing.

What do you do when you run out of ideas or get sick of fixing the same things for dinner every night?

(or is it just me?)

Just when I thought I had nothing to blog about....

This morning I saw my kids, laying around in their pajamas, and decided that they needed a goal for today.
"Hey guys" I said rather enthusiastically, "why don't you do something funny today so I can blog about it?"
They groaned and went back to watching TV.
They haven't done anything funny for a while. Seriously, what am I supposed to blog about? The fighting is getting old. The teasing is getting old. The whining is getting old.
Then, something weird happened.

They all got dressed without me telling them to.

Apparently, they wanted something.

They wanted to go to the park. I explained that the dishes would need to be done for this to happen.

They did the dishes.

This was too weird, so we all piled in the car and we went to the park. While there, I told them that they needed to do something funny so I could blog about it, so they climbed to the top of the playground tower and had a burping contest.

We had a nice visit to the park. I sat under a tree and counted all the moms with their designer strollers, overly highlighted bumpit heads and daisy headbands that are bigger than their baby's head. I laughed because I'm pretty sure they don't realize that they're living a stereotype.

I look over at Max and for the first time notice that Mac & Cheese he had for lunch is still all over his face. I ask my other kids why nobody bothered to wash his face, and none of them answer. So then I ask Max "Did you know that you have Mac & Cheese all over your face?'
He nods yes.
"Did you forget to wash it off or are you saving it for later?"
"I'm savin' it for later."

And I'm feeling pretty good about life because;
1. He's only 4 and has already learned to plan ahead.
2. He wasn't wearing a huge daisy on his head.

Then one of the bumpit set got out a really nice, hand pieced, hand stitched quilt and laid it on the grass and dirt then rolled her stroller on top of it and sat down.
I had to look away.
(Seriously, I doubt that she had any clue how much work and expense went into that beautiful quilt, and she's got it laying on the ground!)

Max went down the slide about 100 times. The kid is a slide maniac.
Then we went home, where Brielle got out her notebook and proceeded to draw some rather uncomplimentary pictures of me. She thought this was funny until I told her that she couldn't have a popcicle, then she tried to back track and drew nice pictures. She drew pictures of herself with tears running down her face, saying she was sorry and very sad............
Then I noticed that one of the pictures of herself had a mustache, and she doesn't have a mustache.
I still didn't let her have a popcicle. I told her she could have one when she grows a mustache.

How long do you think I should stay mad at her?

Overreacting over an inch?

Warning: Rant ahead.

Yesterday I wanted to make Brielle a new workout outfit. She wanted matching leggings and a top, so we went to our local fabric store to buy some black spandex fabric.

I arrived at the store with my 40% off coupon, which was a good thing because the fabric was several dollars more per yard than the other fabric store that I frequent.

We took the bolt of fabric to the cutting table, took a number and patiently waited for our turn.
I should have known that something was up when the lady in front of me finished and rolled her eyes at me as she walked away from the cut table.

When our number was called, I stepped up to the table, handed the bolt to the girl and asked for two yards.

She looked at the bolt and said "I'm not sure if there's that much here" then she unrolled all of the fabric and started to measure it. She seemed to be having great difficulty deciding which end of the fabric to start measuring from. She finally decided on an end to start with and tried to line it up with the yardstick.
I immediately noticed that the edge of the fabric had been previously cut at an angle, and she was measuring from the longest edge of the fabric. I pointed this out to her, and she tried several times to straighten the edge, she was about to trim it even and then decided that it wasn't that uneven (which it was)
She continued to struggle with measuring the fabric, complaining that the spandex just wouldn't cooperate, and finally measured the two yards and there was just barely an inch of fabric left over.
She asked another employee what she should do with this remaining inch of fabric.

"You can offer to sell it to her for 50% off."

She turned to me and asked if I wanted to buy the remaining inch of fabric for half price. I stood there dumbfounded and said "You're really going to cut that off?"

She looked at me with a straight face and said "Yes, unless you want to buy it. We will give it to you for half price."

Then I said "ARE YOU SERIOUS? I have NEVER been to a fabric store where they were this close on measurement and haven't just included the extra inch or two."
She replied "I'm sorry, this is my first day here and I'm just doing what I was told to do."
Then the older lady chimed in "We need to come out even on our measuring. it needs to be exact because sometimes they measure the fabric at the checkstand and we need to be correct."If you want to buy the extra fabric, we will sell it to you for half price."

I then pointed out to the older lady that the edge of the fabric had been cut unevenly on an angle to start with and the girl jumped in and said "It was only a quarter of an inch and I already gave that to you!"
I knew for sure that this wasn't true because I had watched her measure from the very edge of the fabric.

By now I was fuming. "What on earth are you going to do with one inch of fabric?!!! You can't do anything with one inch of fabric. You're only going to throw it away, I can't believe that you are really going to cut that off!"

"If you want it" said the older lady "we would need to charge you for it. If they measure it at the checkstand, the numbers need to add up."

I couldn't believe what she was saying. Never in my life have I seen them measure fabric at the checkstand at this particular fabric/craft store.

So I told her to go ahead and cut off the inch.

She trimmed off the inch (with much difficulty, I might add) handed me the fabric and told me to have a nice day.

I went to the checkstand and paid for my fabric. Nobody measured the fabric again. I kind of wished that I had because when I got home, I measured the fabric and it was one inch short.

I measured it again, it was still one inch short.

I measured it a third time. You guessed it, One. Inch. Short.

This was spandex fabric and I think she might have stretched it a bit as she was measuring it, either that or the yardstick on the cutting table is short.

Over the years, I have spent literally thousands of dollars on fabric at this particular fabric store. I have been buying fabric there for over 20 years!

Tomorrow I will call the manager. Do you think I should ask her to refund the money they overcharged me on that inch of fabric that I didn't get.




This really happened, I only wish I was making it up.

Breakfast bluff

Three weeks ago, my kids brought home notes from school saying that last week, they would be having their end of the year testing, so to "Please be sure that they get a good night's sleep and have a good breakfast in the morning."

I assumed that by "good breakfast" they didn't mean tossing them a frozen waffle to eat in the car on the way to school so I got up bright and early Monday morning and made them french toast.

The kids were delighted, and devoured every last slice.

Tuesday I got up early and made them pancakes.

Wednesday I got up early and made them scrambled eggs and sausage.

Thursday morning, chocolate chip pancakes

Now one thing you need to understand is that I am not a morning person. I value my sleep and really felt that I was doing an incredibly noble thing by getting up early every day that week to make sure that my kids were properly nourished, so Friday morning as I was making another batch of chocolate chip pancakes I said "Hey, this is the last morning that I need to get up early to make you breakfast so you can do well on your tests!" (While making a mental note to be sure that we were stocked up on frozen waffles for next week)

And Aaron says "We didn't do testing this week. The tests aren't until next week."





Say what?




So Monday morning of this week, I got up early again to make them breakfast, but this time I got smart. I made a triple batch of pancakes and FROZE THEM.

This week the kids have been getting up early to remove a frozen pancake from the freezer, heat it up in the microwave and enjoy a hot breakfast.


(don't worry, I still got up early and cut up some strawberries to eat with their pancakes, but next week, we are SO back to tossing them frozen waffles in the back of the car)

Letter of gratitude...because I'm so grateful..........really, I am.

Dear Neighbors!

Thank you so much for the note that you left in my mailbox the other day.




I do so appreciate the concern that you have with our lawn. I realize that we were a few days past the time that we usually mow and our grass may have been a bit longer than usual, and for this I apologize.

I am a little confused, however, at the comment about cleaning up our clippings. (This is obviously a point of great concern to you as you underlined this part of the note TWICE)

We always use a bag on the lawnmower in the front yard and so the only clippings I can think of would be a few scattered on the driveway and perhaps a few may have ended up in the gutter.

I do realize that we didn't use a bag the last time we mowed our back yard and just left the clippings on the lawn, however if this is what has you concerned, I just have to tell you that technically, going into our back yard would be trespassing, and I would strongly recommend that you not go there.

I'm sure that you were smugly watching us that afternoon as we worked in our yard, thinking that you were the one responsible for getting us out there. Little did you know that we had already planned to take care of this yardwork that afternoon anyway. We would have worked on the yard sooner, but there were several things that came up, such as bad weather and a family funeral.

Just so you know, as we were cleaning the dandelions out of our flowerbeds, I was secretly wishing that the wind would take EVERY dandelion seed and deposit it in your yard.
They are such annoying weeds lovely flowers, I think you deserve ALL of them.

I also wanted to thank you for this note, because it literally made my day! After the horrible headache that I had when I woke up, the trip to the dentist where I was told that I have not one but TWO cavities, and the tire that went flat just as we drove in the driveway, this was literally the icing on the cake!!

I only wish that you had signed the note with your actual names so that I could thank you personally, because a note like this deserves a personal THANK YOU!!!

I would also like to mention to you that leaving a note in the mailbox is against the law. I'm going to assume that you know this because of the way the note was cleverly left on top of the mail. I can only imagine you peeking out your window, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the mail so that you could sneak over to our mailbox and safely leave this note.

I hope you feel better about your life now that our yard is in tip top shape and no longer an assault to your senses.

Signed,
Grateful for "Super" neighbors.

p.s. If a few clippings bother you that much, why don't you sneak over and sweep them up yourself?!?!

p.p.s. We may not be 100% sure who you are, however, (due to the process of elimination) we do have a pretty darn good idea of your identity.

p.p.p.s. Get a life.