We have the loveliest across the street neighbors. A young couple with three squirmy boys, all under the age of four. When we have extra (couches, pies, information), we usually share with them. I’m not sure how they view us, but I see us as the old Yankee aunt and uncle a) that can’t throw anything away a like to share and b) that they can call on if they are in a bind: not to close, but comforting and available in case of emergencies.
This week Bruce and I had what I call the holiday appliance discussion. “If we buy a flat screen, we can call it our Christmas present to each other.”
“How is that a present for me if I don’t want a new tv?”
“But it’s for both of us, and you won’t have to wear your glasses when you watch it.”
Man logic/vs/woman logic, and as you can see from the photo, Santa left us an early present.
In his euphoric Santa-heard-me-and-I-got-what-I-wanted-for-Christmas mood, Bruce generously offered our old television to our sweet neighbors. Unfortunately, he didn’t check the DVD player for the last movie watched.
In an effort to revive my waning holiday spriit, I ordered Naked Men Singing from Netflix. Yowza. Wicked fun if you like naughty musicals, but NOT a movie you share with your neighbors (especially ones with young children that like to push random buttons).
Maybe I’ll run over and tell them I need to get Bruce’s movie back….