"Where'd you get them wood chips?" - Booby Brian
That's how another Saturday here in paradise started. Well, sort of. I had already run 8 miles, shopped at the urban market, walked the dog and made a grocery store run but it was 10:30 in the morning and the Hillbilly Neighbors were just stirring.
Big James, Little James, Booby Brian and the little toddler all had to come and see what I was doing as I was mulching my flower bed. After I told them where they too can find these magical "wood chips" (mulch) they stood and stared at me with their mouths agape. Perhaps it was because my answer was not "Wal-Mart." I have a feeling these people love them some Wal-Mart.
Anyway, our conversation ended when Big James announced, "Come on kids, let's go get ice cream." At 10:30 in the morning. 10:30. Now, I'm a huge fan of ice cream, but, 10:30 AM, really? No wonder you and your children are all obese.
I went on to mow the lawn. My lawn mower is one of those Brady Bunch no motor deals. It works for my small yard but the blade is very dull and needs to be sharpened (and yes, this is the mower the Hillbillies wanted to borrow.) so I have to cut the lawn twice a week to try to keep up with it. The Hillbillies recently went on a Craigslist shopping spree (They must have discovered you can buy more on Craigslist than dogs.) and came home with not one but two lawnmowers - one with a motor and one just like mine. Gee whiz. Big James spotted me and, just like he did two times earlier this week, whipped out his non power lawnmower and started cutting. Now, here's the issue. The lawn is not a lawn, it is a field of weeds. There's not much to cut. And why he had to cut the weeds for the third time this week was beyond me. But apparently three times wasn't enough because about two hours later as I was working in my yard I heard the roar of the power mower and - bam! - Big James was at it again, shirtless this time (My eyes! My eyes! His nickname should be Booby and Belly James. Or Jabba the Hut.) pushing around the power mower, folds of glistening blubber flapping in the breeze. Seriously?
Sure, I'd rather have neighbors who over cut than don't cut but, really? The issue is they are growing a freaking dandelion field so every time they "mow" the "lawn" dandelion seeds fly all over my currently dandelion free lawn.
They basically annoyed me all day by continually trying to talk to me and by yelling at one another (The low light was certainly when Booby Brian called Little James both a "pu**y" and a "fa**ot" because that's classy and appropriate.), but I persevered. After all, the weather is finally beautiful and these hicks are not going to keep me indoors. At one point I caught a break when, post fight with Little James, Booby Brian accosted the lawn care crew cleaning up at a house on the other side of the street. He even managed to acquire a leaf blower at one point. This was both funny and disturbing.
Today my parents came to visit and help me with some outdoor projects, so I braced for the onslaught of questions and pathetic attempts at conversation. I asked them to prepare and gave them simple but important instructions, "Don't engage."
However, there was never an "engagement" attempt. Why? I think my mom is a Hillbilly repellent. Seriously, they took one look at her and steered clear all day. My mom is incredibly sweet and looks like your average nice mom. She was also wearing Ralph Lauren and all her jewelery. Perhaps that was a tell-tale sign? Forget it, these people have never heard of Ralph Lauren. Maybe it was just a vibe. My mom is wonderful but she's not a fan of Hillbillies (Gee, wonder if she passed that along to any of her children?). For example, when I went to kindergarten, she informed me I should NOT befriend any kids who live in apartments (we lived in 'burb). I didn't really understand why, but in my short years in public school I steered clear of any kids of apartments...and, of course, when I went to Catholic school everyone lived in a proper neighborhood but I digress...
Sure enough, once mom and dad left the clan was back to their antics.
That's that. My mom is going to have to move in with me and permanently stay on guard on my front stoop. When I told her that she laughed and suggested a life size cut out. This could work too. In the interim, I'm stuck with these bozos.
And, by the way, about an hour ago Booby Brian busted out the power lawn mower. For real. Fifth time this week, third time this weekend. These people need some help.
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