Mr. Gossip From Across The Street

, , , | Friendly | January 5, 2020

(I’m on maternity leave with my first child. My husband is going away for a week on a work trip. I decide to stay with my mom during that time, so I can get some proper rest in between caring for the baby. My mom lives a 40-minute drive from us. I arrive at my mother’s house with my newborn daughter and a ton of stuff. You know, staying somewhere with a newborn requires a lot of logistics — much because of my inexperience, as well. We unload the car in the driveway. Earlier today, I bought a secondhand baby bed online from someone in my mother’s region. I reasoned that it will be handy for sleepovers, as it can be used until my daughter is about four. So, we drive off to collect it and drag it into my mom’s house, too. Fast forward to later that week. My mom comes back from grocery shopping, looking a bit puzzled.)

Mom: “I ran into [Friend from the other side of the neighborhood] when shopping.”

Me: “Oh, that’s nice.”

Mom: “Yeah, he asked about you.”

Me: “Really?”

Mom: “Yeah, he asked if you were ‘staying with me again.’ I told him, ‘Well, yes, she is,’ but found his phrasing a bit funny. Then, he continued, ‘Yeah, things don’t always work out so well.’”

Me: “Oh, my God!*facepalm*

Mom: “Yes, our neighbor apparently saw us unloading everything and made up a story about how you two broke up. He’s telling everybody who wants to hear.”

(I made sure to make out at length with my husband in the middle of the driveway when he “came back to me.” My mom had a firm talk with the neighbor about jumping to conclusions. We’re still happily married. It is now a running joke in our family that I broke up AGAIN when sleeping over at my mom’s.)

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If Anyone Was Going To End The Human Race, It Was Cats

, , , , , , | Friendly | January 4, 2020

(My roommate is sick. Almost without fail, when he gets sick, I get sick. Unfairly, the reverse isn’t also true. As a result, I’ve become super cautious every time he’s ill in an effort to avoid it myself. He’s currently sitting on the couch with one of our cats cuddled up next to him, doling out pets and receiving many licks in return.)

Me: *fake pouting* “Aw. I wanted Jellybean to come and cuddle with me.”

Roommate: “Oh, he will, once he’s ready to spread my disease.”

Me: “Oh, God. You’ve turned him into a vector.”

Roommate: *now cooing at the cat* “What an eager vector! Are you a willing participant in germ warfare? Yes, you are! Who’s the cutest little bioweapon?”

Me: “STAY AWAY FROM ME!”

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It’s A Sick Ice Slick

, , , , , | Friendly | January 3, 2020

I live in a condo community with shared entryways — front and back doors — and the front door is at the top of a porch. My poor senior dog has been sick all week, and after her morning walk, she decides to drop a bit of vomit on the front porch — not a lot, smaller than a child’s hand. After unlocking the front door, going upstairs to my unit, and getting her settled, I came back down with a paper towel and cleaned up the mess as best I could. As it was currently 17 degrees F, I decided against washing the residue away with water, as the spot was so small — and not even three-dimensional — that most folks could avoid it easily if they even noticed it. 

However, one of my neighbors obviously thought differently. I went back inside to finish getting ready for work. When I exited the front door again, not even ten minutes later, I found that the front porch was covered in a thick sheet of ice — not just the spot where my dog was sick, the whole blessed porch. Someone else had the smarts to cover the ice with building-supplied ice-melt. 

Now, had the weather been above freezing, I most certainly would have followed up the paper towel with a bucket of warm, soapy water, but I didn’t want to turn our community front porch into an ice skating rink. I’m still waiting for one of my neighbors to berate me for not cleaning up after my dog’s puke. Did I screw up?

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The Apple Number Has Fallen Very Far From The Tree

, , , , , | Friendly | January 2, 2020

I still have my phone number from when I lived on the US east coast, but now I live on the west coast. That means I occasionally get wrong number calls at inappropriate hours; I simply ignore my phone unless I know who is calling. One day, the calls kept coming; I received over two dozen before I left for work. Most were hang-ups, and sometimes it was the same number several times. Finally, I picked up; it was some dopey recent college grad looking for a job at the flagship Apple store in the city in which I used to live. I told him he had the wrong number. I picked up the next one, too, and it was the same story. It seemed like the Apple store recruiting office had accidentally given out my number. I felt bad for those dopey kids, even the one who kept calling me after I told him he had the wrong number.

I called the Apple store itself, and they informed me that they were not recruiting, and they don’t use outside companies to fill positions. It turns out it was some sort of scam. Now I felt extra bad for those dopey kids.

It was not a busy day at work, so I did my best to inform the callers about what was going on. I even spoke with the kid who didn’t understand what a wrong number was. 

A few minutes later, I got a message from his mother, complaining that I was unhelpful. Then I feel even worse for that kid; it’s got to be difficult to go through life with a mom who was even dumber than he was.

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That’s Understood In Any Language

, , , , , | Friendly | January 1, 2020

(I have made friends with a young Thai woman who is staying in America for one year as an au pair. She is still learning English, so as a favor, I install and teach her to use Rosetta Stone for American English on her computer. Today, we are having lunch together in a restaurant and as a joke, I start imitating the voice from Rosetta Stone.)

Friend: *takes a sip of water*

Me: “The girl is drinking.”

Friend: *eats a bite of food*

Me: “The girl is eating.”

Friend: *drinks more water*

Me: “The girl is drinking.”

Friend: “The boy is shut up!”

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