Dear Downstairs neighbors,
Thank you for finally giving up on the hope that we will ever, ever, EVER be nice, quiet, sleeping-in-type upstairs neighbors.
I appreciate that you no longer send texts saying things like “Please take the children out of the master bedroom until 10 am” and calling our landlords to complain about the “jumping around the bedroom” going on at 6:30 am.
Also, I’m sorry about the 6:30 am jumping. Joseph was excited to start his day. I wasn’t too thrilled about it either- let me tell yoooou!
I knew when you came out and complained to the MOVERS that they were making too much noise on the DAY THAT WE MOVED IN that you were in for a wild ride!
So, I’m glad to see that we have finally broken your peace-and-quiet-loving spirit!
Which is why I want to apologize for the cozy coupe car that Isaac got for Christmas. It is kind of adding insult to injury, no?
If I had known that he would ride it around and around in circles in the kitchen (ie your dining room ceiling, but you know that already!) for hours every day…well… I still probably would have had him get it, because those are hours that he is not…say…spraying himself in the face with PAM or eating toothpaste.
But, I DO feel bad about it every time he does it. So, does that count for anything?
Really, I should probably just apologize for Isaac in general.
And the fact that my boys were born with the flattest feet on the planet.
And that my husbands feet are actually size 15 surfboards.
Oh yes, and that Joseph dropped his cereal bowl this morning right directly above where your bed is.
Haha, and those times when Brian shoves the recycling boxes down the stairs (Bump! Bump! Bump!- remember?) because he is too tired to carry them all the way down.
And when I don’t follow the “no laundry past 11pm” policy. Every. Single. Night.
The good news is that you have taught us how to say what I think is “THOSE KIDS ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY!” in Farsi because of how often I hear particular phrases shouted up through the floorboards!
Just please know that you are not alone; they have broken my peace-and-quiet-loving spirit too.
And at least we don’t have a dog.
“The Quiet One”