The Neighbors

One of the inevitable pitfalls of moving to a new neighborhood is new neighbors. As a rule, I tend to be pretty hesitant to meet new people, while GH is total social butterfly. This often causes a bit of friction as GH badgers me into trying to make new friends, while I insist a semi-hermit existence suits me just fine, thank you.

The neighbors that live just on the other side of our fence have become GH's most recent pet project. Just after we moved in, GH went to a local concert and happened to meet this "really cool" guy - only to find out days later this "really cool guy" was our new neighbor. GH wasted no time becoming friends, even going to another concert with him a few weeks later.

I have yet to meet "cool guy" or his wife. Or their six kids. Yes, six kids - that terrifies me. GH keeps insisting that we should get together with them, hang out, etc. I keep insisting my friend quota is full up, and I don't want to get involved in any new potential neighbor drama. Stalemate.

Then, a move I wasn't prepared for. While I was at work yesterday, one of their child-shaped minions dropped this off with GH:

He texted me and let me know there was a box from the neighbors. He suspected it contained baked goods, but insisted on waiting for me to get home to open it.

It was indeed full of baked goods:

Cute little homemade cookies of every shape and size. Damn.Well played neighbors. Well played.