It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood . . .

A perfect Sunday to read the paper on the deck and enjoy a quiet, temperate Sunday.

Not in MY neighborhood.

In my neighborhood, you get to listen to packs of screaming children on either side of you. The little darlings on one side playing ball and hitting the ball into your yard so they have to climb the fence. And even though it is a very high fence on their side with a chain link number on our side and it's anything BUT a safe thing to do, the little fucker ignores me AND his mother and is coming on over. You just KNOW if he falls and hurts himself his parents will sue us for some damn reason. Perhaps for Not Taking The Necessary Time Out of Our Day to Watch Their Child.

I don't begrudge the little monsters time and place to play, I just wish -- that since they are home the whole damn week -- that there could be SOME time left for us to enjoy some peace and quiet on the weekENDS. But I know that's not even close to realistic in the Suburbs where you live 16-20 feet from your neighbors and where most of your neighbors are yuppie pukes with 2-3 children aged 3-6. Darling perfection, every one.

I need to find a place to GO.