If They Only Had a Brain...
Dear Lady Who Lives Across the Street,
Hi! This is Missie. Your neighbor. The one who lives in the house directly across the street from you, you know, with the really cute toddler and the handsome son and the smokin hot husband? Yeah, that's me. Thought I better jog your memory seeing as how you have probably only laid eyes on me about five times in the TWO YEARS you have lived on our street. Which is kind of weird since I am home all the freaking time and am outside alot talking to all of our other neighbors. Who don't even know your name. And who couldn't pick you or your husband out of a lineup. Because you never come outside.
Now, you not coming outside is kind of strange enough, but whatever. To each his own. But what is kind of troubling is that your daughter? You know, the eight year old who hangs around your house alot? Is ALWAYS OUTSIDE. WITH.NO.PARENTAL.SUPERVISION. This is also really none of my business except...well, I am kinda all weird about little kids staying outside way after dark when absolutely no one who shares DNA with them is out there too. Case in point, the other night, all the kids were playing out in the street riding their scooters and bikes. As night began to fall, so did the number of children in the street, cuz us other parents? Called our kids in. In to our house. For the night. Because that's where kids belong when it gets dark. Is in the house. See how that works? And what was kinda strange too was that after EVERY OTHER CHILD WAS INSIDE, your daughter was still out in the street, riding her scooter all by herself. At 8:45pm.
My husband and I were in our garage with the main door open, so I had a good view of your daughter. After my husband decided to go inside, I stood in our garage and watched her. You know why? Because you didn't. You left her out there another 15 minutes after every other kid went in. You didn't even come out to check on her in the previous 2 hours at all. When you finally did come out, you just stood right at the door and called for her. I stayed and watched her because I knew I would never forgive myself if something happened to your kid between me going in and you finally coming out.
Not trying to insult your intelligence here, but I was just wondering...Have you heard of a segment of our society called, oh what is that term again? Oh, yeah..sexual predators? Child molesters? Kidnappers? Yeah, them guys. See, the way they work is that they look for little kids who are alone and try to abduct them for their own nefarious purposes. And the result usually ain't good. And, and, and know what else? All that noise you hear by our houses? That's called a highway. That busy street that your yard backs up against? Yeah, that's the one. See, it wouldn't be hard for a bad guy to nab your kid and hightail it out to that busy street and be long gone before you even knew she was missing. Because you never come out to check on her.
You don't know who she's playing with. You don't know anything about any of the other parents on the street. You don't know if my husband and I torture small animals or if all of us are involved in a cult where we bite the heads off of live rats. Yet you send your daughter out to play every day in our street. You don't care if she comes into any of our houses. In fact, you don't even know if she does, because YOU NEVER CHECK. You don't pay attention to your own kid, so the rest of us parents have to. (also, did you know that she plays chicken with the cars? Yeah, you might want to look into that.)
I bet you would be the kind of mom who would appear on television after something horrendous has happened to your child saying dumb things like, "I only looked away for a minute" and "She was never left by herself ever!" Just so you know, none of the other moms on the street respect you. Because you don't care enough to watch your own kid. I hope upon hope that nothing ever happens to her because of your negligence.
Now please excuse me. My kids are calling.
Dear People Who Take Their Sick Kids to Church Nursery,
Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but you suck.
If your kid is sick, or has been sick, or you think may become sick, keep Snotella at home. The church will go on without you for a Sunday. Trust me.
Amen.
Dear Realtors Who Have Called My House Today,
Um, hi. Yes, this is Missie. No, this is not a good time. Especially when you call at 8:01 this morning. Yes, I am aware that the MLS listing on my house expired yesterday. (Cuz know what? It's my house. I have all that information. We're all kinda crazy like dat.) I already have a real estate agent. I am not interested in letting you list my house, Mr. and Miss Person I Don't Know. And because you all nine of you that have been calling me all day and keeping me from getting stuff done? I will not be listing my house with any of you ever.
Thanks so much. Buh-bye.
Dear Terrell Owens' Publicist,
Take this anyway you want, but you suck, too.
Regardless of whatever actually happened the other night with your overpaid, egomaniac, mentally unstable, overblown client, for you to make the comment that he has "25 million reasons to live" is about the most heartless, classless thing I have ever heard. Does he have 25 million children? Does he have 25 million wives? Has he done 25 million good deeds? Does he have 25 million friends? No? Oooooh, you were talking about his monnnnney. Ohhhhhh. See, here for a minute, I was thinking that you meant that money is a good reason for living. But you didn't really mean that, did ya? Of course, if he dies, that would put an end to your commission for representing him, wouldn't it?
Well, anyway, you still suck, whatever you meant.
Dear Terri Irwin,
I just want to say thank you.
I watched your interview with Barbara Walters last night. I cried my eyes out with you. I ached for you. I ached for your children. I am so sorry for your loss. But when you answered one of BW's stupid questions about how you were doing now or how you were feeling with, "I lost my prince," you broke my heart.
When my husband walked in from work, he found me sobbing on the floor in front of the tv. I hugged him, told him how much I loved him and thanked him for giving me our kids. Your comment made me appreciate my man so much more.
So thank you. I hope God's healing power is at work in the lives of you and your children.
Crocs Rule.
Hi! This is Missie. Your neighbor. The one who lives in the house directly across the street from you, you know, with the really cute toddler and the handsome son and the smokin hot husband? Yeah, that's me. Thought I better jog your memory seeing as how you have probably only laid eyes on me about five times in the TWO YEARS you have lived on our street. Which is kind of weird since I am home all the freaking time and am outside alot talking to all of our other neighbors. Who don't even know your name. And who couldn't pick you or your husband out of a lineup. Because you never come outside.
Now, you not coming outside is kind of strange enough, but whatever. To each his own. But what is kind of troubling is that your daughter? You know, the eight year old who hangs around your house alot? Is ALWAYS OUTSIDE. WITH.NO.PARENTAL.SUPERVISION. This is also really none of my business except...well, I am kinda all weird about little kids staying outside way after dark when absolutely no one who shares DNA with them is out there too. Case in point, the other night, all the kids were playing out in the street riding their scooters and bikes. As night began to fall, so did the number of children in the street, cuz us other parents? Called our kids in. In to our house. For the night. Because that's where kids belong when it gets dark. Is in the house. See how that works? And what was kinda strange too was that after EVERY OTHER CHILD WAS INSIDE, your daughter was still out in the street, riding her scooter all by herself. At 8:45pm.
My husband and I were in our garage with the main door open, so I had a good view of your daughter. After my husband decided to go inside, I stood in our garage and watched her. You know why? Because you didn't. You left her out there another 15 minutes after every other kid went in. You didn't even come out to check on her in the previous 2 hours at all. When you finally did come out, you just stood right at the door and called for her. I stayed and watched her because I knew I would never forgive myself if something happened to your kid between me going in and you finally coming out.
Not trying to insult your intelligence here, but I was just wondering...Have you heard of a segment of our society called, oh what is that term again? Oh, yeah..sexual predators? Child molesters? Kidnappers? Yeah, them guys. See, the way they work is that they look for little kids who are alone and try to abduct them for their own nefarious purposes. And the result usually ain't good. And, and, and know what else? All that noise you hear by our houses? That's called a highway. That busy street that your yard backs up against? Yeah, that's the one. See, it wouldn't be hard for a bad guy to nab your kid and hightail it out to that busy street and be long gone before you even knew she was missing. Because you never come out to check on her.
You don't know who she's playing with. You don't know anything about any of the other parents on the street. You don't know if my husband and I torture small animals or if all of us are involved in a cult where we bite the heads off of live rats. Yet you send your daughter out to play every day in our street. You don't care if she comes into any of our houses. In fact, you don't even know if she does, because YOU NEVER CHECK. You don't pay attention to your own kid, so the rest of us parents have to. (also, did you know that she plays chicken with the cars? Yeah, you might want to look into that.)
I bet you would be the kind of mom who would appear on television after something horrendous has happened to your child saying dumb things like, "I only looked away for a minute" and "She was never left by herself ever!" Just so you know, none of the other moms on the street respect you. Because you don't care enough to watch your own kid. I hope upon hope that nothing ever happens to her because of your negligence.
Now please excuse me. My kids are calling.
Dear People Who Take Their Sick Kids to Church Nursery,
Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but you suck.
If your kid is sick, or has been sick, or you think may become sick, keep Snotella at home. The church will go on without you for a Sunday. Trust me.
Amen.
Dear Realtors Who Have Called My House Today,
Um, hi. Yes, this is Missie. No, this is not a good time. Especially when you call at 8:01 this morning. Yes, I am aware that the MLS listing on my house expired yesterday. (Cuz know what? It's my house. I have all that information. We're all kinda crazy like dat.) I already have a real estate agent. I am not interested in letting you list my house, Mr. and Miss Person I Don't Know. And because you all nine of you that have been calling me all day and keeping me from getting stuff done? I will not be listing my house with any of you ever.
Thanks so much. Buh-bye.
Dear Terrell Owens' Publicist,
Take this anyway you want, but you suck, too.
Regardless of whatever actually happened the other night with your overpaid, egomaniac, mentally unstable, overblown client, for you to make the comment that he has "25 million reasons to live" is about the most heartless, classless thing I have ever heard. Does he have 25 million children? Does he have 25 million wives? Has he done 25 million good deeds? Does he have 25 million friends? No? Oooooh, you were talking about his monnnnney. Ohhhhhh. See, here for a minute, I was thinking that you meant that money is a good reason for living. But you didn't really mean that, did ya? Of course, if he dies, that would put an end to your commission for representing him, wouldn't it?
Well, anyway, you still suck, whatever you meant.
Dear Terri Irwin,
I just want to say thank you.
I watched your interview with Barbara Walters last night. I cried my eyes out with you. I ached for you. I ached for your children. I am so sorry for your loss. But when you answered one of BW's stupid questions about how you were doing now or how you were feeling with, "I lost my prince," you broke my heart.
When my husband walked in from work, he found me sobbing on the floor in front of the tv. I hugged him, told him how much I loved him and thanked him for giving me our kids. Your comment made me appreciate my man so much more.
So thank you. I hope God's healing power is at work in the lives of you and your children.
Crocs Rule.
posted by Missie | 2:28 PM
12 Comments:
You have saved soooo much money on postage by having this blog.
I was going to blog about Terri Irwin, too. I bawled like a baby through the whole interview. When she said she'd really miss Steve because he was fun, I was gone. "He taught me that it was okay to walk in the rain, to jump in the puddles." It is, baby. It is.
Oh, I know. When she said that she was going to try really hard to have fun again? I was almost hyperventilating.
Thanks for ranting for all of us.
Um...who's Terrell Owens? From your rant, I think I'm probably doing well not to know.
I so want to whack Snotella's parents with a clue stick. My punkin has enough health problems without catching billions of little germies from the Typhoid Toddler.
And that first mother needs to be brought up on charges of "endangering a minor" I think that's a real charge. God grief, I'm paranoid letting my kid out of arm's reach in public, let alone out of eyesight.
BTW, got the Starbucks card today. Sugar-free vanilla latte and orange cranberry muffin, here I come :) Thanks again.
You're welcome.
T.O. is a football player for the Dallas Cowboys who can't seem to keep himself out of trouble, from what I've heard. There was a scandal this week about his possibly trying to commit suicide by overdosing on pain pills.
"Typhoid Toddler"! I love it!
Missie, thank you so much for commenting on Cooking with Whine so I could find this blog. I heart you very much, and I will be finding some game recipes for you soon.
As to the neighbor who leaves her kid outside--is it possible she can see her from inside her house? And if she can't, has she ever imagined her child's abject terror in the hands of an abductor who meant to harm her? Every time I visualize one of my precious "babies" being hurt and afraid and wanting me, it kills me inside. I know the chances of an abduction happening are remote, but the stakes are too high.
Well said, Missie, but...
Should the parents get together and tell her a few home truths?
Or will they all not want to get involved with a confrontation?
Becki,
Thanks for stopping by here. I love your blog and recipes and sense of humor. (everyone: go check out Becki's blog over on clubmom.com, it's called Cooking with Whine--what a hoot!)
I have thought about the mom being able to see the girl from inside, but realized she can't because the blinds in the living room are always closed. Plus, even though most of us parents can see our kids outside the way our houses are set up, we still walk outside every now and again to check on them.
I don't know what she is thinking, taking chances like that with her girl. I can't even try to imagine something bad happening to my kids, because I literally get sick and want to throw up if I do.
Bernita,
I doubt anyone else would say something to her. We have brought a few problems to her attention, things her daughter was doing that weren't all that great, but she doesn't seem to do anything about it other than to say, "Gerrrrr-truuuuude! Don't doooo that!" in a really whiny nasaly make-me-want-to-slap-her voice.
I can't stand moms who won't stand up and BE THE MOM! UGH!
Must get coffee! I am all wound up again! Or maybe I should skip the coffee and get a sedative...
I'd leave that Mom an anonymous note telling her that if she doesn't start looking after her child, someone else will.
Grrr...
Argh on the mother! Poor kid. Glad she has someone to look out for her.
Gertrude? The poor child's name is Gertrude? Well, it's obvious that mother has no concern for her daughter's safety, not if she willingly chose the name Gertrude, and expects the child to make it through school in one piece.
But I'll gladly and speedily mail you the clue stick to whack that mom over the head with.
Dallas Cowboys? Well, there's his problem right there ;) And no, I'm not a Redskins fan either. Or any other team for that matter. I just got tired of have the Sooners and Cowboys (both OSU and Dallas) rammed down my throat for the 17 years I lived in Oklahoma. Usually my favorite team is whichever team is whichever team is playing the Cowboys (or the Redskins). If they're playing each other, I hope for sudden death...and not just the tie-breaker kind...(well, not really. But you get my drift.)
LOLOL! You crack me up. I love your blog.
I have a neighbor across the street who leaves her four year old out alone. The tiny dog supervises, but ... what the hell kind of supervision is that???
In all honesty, I picked the name Gertrude for her girl because that way, no one could ever correctly identify the woman or her daughter. The girl does have a very pretty and unusual name. Too bad the lady doesn't spend as much time protecting her girl as she did trying to choose a beautiful name.
Spy,
Welcome to our blog. Please do not be frightened by my rants or possible mental problems...;) We are really quite harmless.
Post a Comment
<< Home