Foot Mouth Disease
Each of the houses on either side of us sold recently. There was lots of buzz in the neighborhood throughout this process; it is exciting to dream and wonder upon whose property you’ll be dumping all your dead leaves and stale pieces of bread.
Turns out the new neighbors to our right are a couple with two large dogs and I as learned today, so are the new neighbors to the left! I can’t lie and say I wasn’t hoping for some children or extremely responsible teenage girls who are plain and bookish, but I’m sure all will be well and I look forward to this new energy. The couple I met today were outside going through their home inspection when Arlo and I returned from preschool. We introduced ourselves, I silently judged them for not commenting on the beaming brilliance and beauty of my child, and then we chatted about water damage (theirs) and exterior repair (ours). I mentioned that the neighbors on their other side, our friends, had a dog and two little girls, were a lovely family and that we see them quite often. All true. Then upon learning they had dogs but no children I said “Oh! Well since we hang out with them all the time (the neighbors with kids), you’ll probably start to hang out with the other neighbors (the new neighbors with dogs) all the time!”
As soon as I said it I cringed.
Nice first impression: “Because we have nothing in common obviously, so look elsewhere.” Or “I probably won’t waste my time getting to know you, you childless monsters.” Or how about “Enjoy your OTHER neighbors. We’ll stick with our own kind”? Now I’m on damage control patrol and they won’t be closing until the end of next month.
As a person who suffered from infertility (or super fertility) for so long and as a woman who led a fertility support group, I know better. I know better. My only hope is that they remember I am sick (I declined to offer a handshake) and blame my lapse of human decency on the virus eating what remains of my brain.
That welcome basket is going to have to be a doozy.