Thursday, April 14, 2011

The case of the Nefarious Neighbors

A few months ago when the trees were still just thinking about turning green again I was walking between my Wee One's bedrooms tucking them in.

Mamma, Can I have another drink of water?

No, any more water and you'll be up all night going to the bathroom.

Mamma, Can I have another hug?

Geesh, how do you say no to that?  Sneaky Buggers

Mamma, What's the square root of Pi?

Now you're just getting uppity....Back to bed both of you

Throughout this exchange I noticed that I was casting a rather impressive shadow on the wall.

Everyone knows that shadows are skeerry and evil and must be vanquished or they will jump out and get you.  Said vanquishing is usually done by a Mamma, but under the right circumstances a Super Son armed with a Pokemon of some sort.  Considering Super Son was supposed to be in bed.  I started looking around to figure out where the light was coming from.

Downstairs you say?  No you silly reader

A random headlight from a neighbor turning a strange direction.  Closer, but still no.

After some detailed investigation i.e. I looked out the window and squinted at the surprisingly bright blue light shining at me, I realized it was coming from the neighbor behind us.

Lights from neighbors, alas, just a problem of living in a semi-urban environment right?

Shoot No!  This was BMW headlight blinding blue xenon shining in my back window from 100 yards away making me see spots when I closed my eyes.

So of course I whined and complained about it until Hero Husband's response was "For the love of Pete, just do something about it would you!"

Which is when I asked him to shoot out the light with his pellet gun.

Then he left the room and may or may not have rolled his eyes at me.

A few years back the houses that back up to mine were re-zoned and converted into small offices.  Insurance agents, lawyers, retirement fund managers.  Heretofore known as the Nefarious Neighbors.

These mild mannered professionals by day apparently decided that by night their offices were targets for the next homeland terrorist attack and chose to combat the threat level with blinding lights pointed directly in my back window.  For the record the only people that think I am a terrorist are my chickens and that's cause I shoo them and steal their eggs.

Never one to admit failure I reserved the right to shoot the light out myself but figured I would try to be neighborly, put aside my agoraphobic tendencies, and call the person who owns the house to find out why they personally decided to cause my children bad dreams and blind me simultaneously.

A timer, a motion sensor, a directional shade I suggested.

Sure they said, If I want to pay for it.  In their words they

"had the right to protect their businesses in whichever way they saw fit regardless of how it impacted those who lived next door.  You live next to businesses it's what you should expect."

Really?  Last time I checked I lived here first.

I told Hero Husband to get the pellet gun.  He told me to look up the local zoning ordinance to see what restrictions the Nefarious Neighbors were violating.

"I don't want to be pragmatic" I tell him.

"You can't shoot out the light now" he replies "they'd know it was you."

Okay maybe pragmatic is a little sexy.

Turns out the zoning code is on my side and when presented with them the Nefarious Neighbors folded like a cheap card table.

They climbed a ladder and pointed their light at the ground rather than in my window.  The shadows had been vanquished, my retinas were healed, the Nefarious Neighbors defeated and all was right with the world.

For now I will resist the temptation to shoot it out anyway, 'cause I'm a good person and, well, I think Hero Husband hid the pellet gun.

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