... or, stories from the neighborhood.
transfer to the new house I was catapulted into a reality I practically unknown until almost the 29 years of age. What I'm talking about?
Simple: neighbors .
For me, the only form of "neighborhood" covered the uncles and close a busy highway (with a gas station just below the kitchen windows), the fact of finding myself in a village near-campaign , out of traffic and smog that I used from newborn and, above all, in a rather quiet , had put me in a state of almost hysterical happiness, because it seemed almost surreal.
In fact, everything did not correspond to reality ...
It starts with kids screaming at all hours from 4 pm until evening around 10, excluding half an hour for dinner around 8 o'clock. Now, against the children playing I have absolutely nothing ... but they really are incredible, by dint of launch energy waves should all be super saiyan of the fifth level or so. Definitely worth mentioning is that my boyfriend has appointed Bimbo Gigi , because it has the same way of talking about the baby gigi Mai dire gol ... assurdooo! The
Cagnino neighbors. An indefinable breed, black hair and very short stature no bigger than a cat a few months. His only function within the family barking. Constantly, to no avail, as they can only do the dogs of small stature who do not have the athleticism or the courage to strike a nice Morson to those who break the soul. So, what does? Barking. Yesterday I came to the conclusion that a dog is stressed, because a week after returning from holiday, has been unleashed to do is open the tap water ... the nice thing is that on every single noise from its , the owners will automatically start with a series of "ssttt!", "Shut up !!!", "Shut up!" And so on ... but if you did not want a dog mess, mica could buy a St. Bernard??
The icing on the cake, however, is the family that lives on the right: mom, dad and two little girls, about four and two years. More Grandma.
The adorable little old lady (who is not so old lady) helps parents to keep the girls until they are at work ... the problem is that the grandmother has the voice ultrasound, and is talkative ! ! Begins even before the 7 to talk to girls so so sweet to wake up too. Then for the rest of the day continues to stimulate the neurons of poor women (and our, as a result), that now when they say something ... scream!! This morning came the pearl ... after shouting to the smallest for a couple of hours, the little girl took a map and the sweet little grandmother: "Shut up! 're a complaining! "
almost ... almost ... I call the helpline
And, just for the closure of the post, arrived at the same time: the barking Cagnina and "... ssssstttt!" The mistress of her grandmother screaming big girl ... and nothing else is missing??
ONNNDAAAAAAAA ENERRRRRRGETIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII .... CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!
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