Once upon a time, a long time ago in a land far, far away(about 350 miles), when the Weasel family was much smaller, so small in in fact that they had not yet turned into Weasels. Just a Mom, Dad and and baby girl.
They lived in a beautiful old home that had been converted into four apartments. One apartment housed a family with teens. The teens were really nice and loved baby girl and were great babysitters. Directly upstairs was a single twenty-something who became a great Friday night buddy(and fellow X-Files enthusiast). Directly across the hall was a total and complete soul sucking, annoying, can't take a hint, understand personal space or time boundaries and her 2
ugly step-sisters daughters with equally endearing qualities. We shall call her Cheryl.
I was full time at home with a new baby. Cheryl was full time at home
with a welfare check all by herself when the kids were at school. We had so much in common she was sure we would be best friends. I still haven't figured out what she thought we had in common.
I had a new baby girl. She was my first. I needed time and space and naps. I needed privacy. All of you maternal types know what I'm talking about. The apartment was a wreck. I kept the shades drawn because half the time I was only half dressed. I needed time to find my groove. The last thing I needed was outsiders being intrusive.
Cheryl was at my door incessantly and stalker like, for no apparent reason. If you politely said hello in passing you were held hostage for the next hour. Mr. Weasel had no patience for her(after months of this). He usually was very impolite to her and said things to her that would make the average person never speak to you again, but they didn't offend or deter her in the least. I tried to remain polite, but cool. If we had to live in such proximity I wanted it peaceful.
So one very cold winter's night Mr. W and I cuddled up to watch TV under a blanket. Between shows Mr. W was going to the store to buy a pack of cigarettes so we could bundle up and hit the back porch. He pulled on a pair of jeans over the shorts that he was wearing*grabbed a heavy coat and headed out.
No sooner did he leave than Cheryl was knocking on the door. "Can I bum a cigarette?" was a regular mantra of hers. "Sorry, I'm all out. Mr. W had to go to the store, can't help ya". " That's okay, I'll wait till he gets back"(You so can't even make these people up, and they too have the right to vote- That's your October Scare). I stay in the doorway, so that she doesn't mistake an invite in and soon enough Mr. W comes back and immediately gives me 'the eye'. I move as to let him in and Cheryl takes the opportunity to follow behind him to continue chatting. Mr. W hands her 2 cigarettes in hopes of sending a message and she continues to chat.
Finally he had enough, and much to my laughter and entertainment, he thought of the perfect offense to get this person to actually leave. He announced that he was getting back to 'our show' and started stripping his jeans off in the living room. Cheryl started to freak and went running for the door, where she had trouble opening it because she was in such a state of panic.
I closed the door behind her and we both fell over ourselves laughing. It was the fastest exit we have ever seen from anyone. The other neighbors were happy to finally know the secret of how to get rid of her. After that night she never came around when Mr. Weasel was home and kept her distance more with me. And they all lived happily ever after......
*important fact to remember
Backpacking with kids: 13 steps to follow
3 years ago