Stomping Out Their Complaints

(We live on the ground floor of a series of flats. Recently, a family moved into the flat one floor up. They have kids who are constantly stomping about, but we let it go, as that is the cost of living in a flat. However, things change when we have a small get-together one evening. We aren’t especially loud, though one of our guests is a bit of a loud talker. After about half an hour, we get a pounding on our door. I answer to find the wife of the family upstairs glaring at me.)

Neighbor: “Keep it down! People are trying to sleep.”

(It’s only around half-past seven at this point.)

Me: “Really? Well, bully for them.”

Neighbor: “You’re being rude.”

Me: *stepping fully out of the door* “No, the one being rude is the hypocrite who allows her children to stomp around and jump on the floor before dawn each morning, and then comes down to try and scold someone for not being entirely silent in the evening. Keep your brats under control for just one day, and then you can come to talk to us about noise.”

(In case it wasn’t obvious, I’d been practicing this exact sort of speech in my head for weeks, and I was actually rather excited to be able to use it. I still kept a scowl on my face, while our charming neighbor went white, stammered out something that might have been an apology, and scurried off back upstairs. Her kids are still as noisy as ever, but they’ve never again tried to complain about us making noise.)