Musing on an open apology to my neighbors.

Musing on an open apology to my neighbors.

Yesterday was a holiday. 

My daughter started calling her friends at 9:01 a.m. Following my edict of no calls until after nine.

Can Lilly come over? Can Sally come over? Can  insert name  come over? 

When the calls don’t yeild results, it then comes time to go knock on doors.

“Can we see if Tom and Will want to play?”

“Yes, but promise me you will bring them back here and not stay over there.”

“Yes ma’am.”

There probably wasn’t a “ma’am” but when writing this I heard it in my head. It sounds so much better.

Off my daughter and son went on bike and scooter,  shoeless.

They never returned.

That’s what they do. This is an open apology to all my neighbors whose homes can be reached by my children without the aid of a car. For when they come to your house, I fully intend for them to bring your children back here to play. Not stay over there…for hours.

My daughter showed back up 45 minutes later.

“Ms. Pamela wants to know if we can stay and play?” Big surprise.

“Who’s there?” I ask.

“Ms Pamela, Mr. Glenn.  Will and Tom. The whole entire family.”

I ask, “Is Joe still there?”

“Yes.”  She nods and smiles.  “He’s eating eggs.”

“And banana bread…and orange juice. He didn’t want any of Ms. Pamela’s homemade applesauce.”

So yesterday after refusing a breakfast of day-old powdered doughnuts, my children were fed a feast to which they invited themselves.

It’s good to be my children.

It’s good to be me.

It’s good to be our neighbors? Not so much.

Do you owe your neighbors an apology?