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Naked Neighbors

October 28, 2010

I used to have a blog on blogspot that I updated on a sporadic basis. Its tone was more serious than this one and I decided I wanted a blog with less pressure to be profound and meaningful. A place where I could talk about mullets and my addiction to Diet Dr Pepper.

Fact: I’m here for the giggles.

But while I was at blogspot I wrote about an experience with an old roommate that will go down in history as an example of why I never want to live in a small, two bedroom townhouse with three young boys.

Wait. That sounds weird. Let me just tell the story.

Meredith and I lived in a townhouse at the end of a cul-de-sac. In the same cul-de-sac lived our property manager with her husband and three sons. The youngest of her sons was about three years old. It was a pleasant little complex, so Meredith and I would take walks in the nice weather and make friends with people walking their dogs. We were always able to remember the names of the dogs, but not the people. Draw your own conclusions.

One evening Meredith and I were taking a walk and noticed that the property manager was also taking a walk with her two oldest sons and their mops (also known as Pomeranian dogs). Our property manager’s kids were a rambunctious lot, especially the three-year-old. I will borrow a saying from my grandparents: He was a pistol.

We were about 20 yards ahead of them and headed back to our townhouse and as we were crossing the street we noticed a young boy running down the sidewalk. Naked. It was as though he’d been set free from the confines of clothing and was making a run for it back to the wild. He was careening toward us and we found ourselves in a conundrum: To grab or not to grab? He’s not our kid and his mom is 20 yards behind us. He’d have to cross one street to get to her, but did we mention? He’s naked.

It would be one thing if he were fully clothed because then we could stop him and make sure he got to her safely. But he’s naked and running full speed toward his mom. And grabbing a naked child is usually seen as a bad thing in polite society.

Before we had time to do anything more than comprehend what was happening, Born Free boy has passed us and continued on his way to his mom. Once we had seen he was safe in the arms of his yelling mother, we continued walking. Then we saw his dad standing outside their townhouse, watching all of this unfold and not making a move to stop it. Not. Making. A move. Something tells me she had plenty to say to her son and husband when they got home.

Morals of the story: 1. Marry someone who will run after his naked child. 2. Live in the country where the neighbors won’t see your child running naked through the streets.

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