Dear Neighbor, You’re Making Me Look Bad

Dear Neighbor,

Look. I like you. You are a great neighbor. You're not overly loud. You return my mail when it's been accidentally delivered to your house instead of mine. You're kids like my kids and play together at the bus stop. You watch our cat when we're gone.

But Neighbor, we have GOT to talk.

You're making me look bad.

Dear Neighbor, Look. I like you. You are a great neighbor. But Neighbor, we have GOT to talk. You're making me look bad.

One of my favorite things about you, Neighbor, is that you're as big a slack ass as we are. You, like us, also have a sizable burn pile that you never seem to get around to actually… burning. You have an extra car in your driveway that's a little beat up and never seems to get used.

You have lots of big, colorful kid's toys that never get put away and your kids also prefer to play in muddy puddles rather than do crafts. You don't have any fancy seasonally themed flags that you hang on your gate or by your mailbox.

And, most importantly, you never decorate your home or driveway for any holiday. No American flag for Fourth of July, no oversized egg cutouts for Easter, no orange and purple buntings on the fence for Halloween.

In short, you are my people.

At least, you WERE my people.

But now dear Neighbor, you're making me look bad.

It all started off innocently enough. I was returning home after taking my daughter to the bus stop. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something shiny near your driveway. I slowed the car to a roll and turned my head to look.

Garland.

MOTHERFUCKING GARLAND.

You, in a fit of what I suspect was mom guilt induced holiday decorating, went crazy and wrapped a single strand of glittery green and red garland around the trunk of the oak tree next to your gate.

I feel personally attacked.

We were supposed to be in this together! Sure, I love Christmas but I am also a horrible slacker and do. not. want. to. decorate outside my home. You were supposed to be in this with me! Together! WE WERE THE BUMMER HOUSES ON OUR ROAD.

But, alas, dear neighbor. You have forsaken me. I cannot trust you. I cannot depend on you. Everything I ever believed to be true is gone.

What do you have to say for yourself?