Since the girls and I don't go out much, this is basically the cul-de-sac gossip headquarters.
Our neighbors, the ones we've had for over 6 years, are gone. And it's not like, "Oh, they moved," type of thing. No, they upped and disappeared. Seriously. A few conversations with them led us to believe they might be having monetary issues. Not our business, I know, but they offered up the information on their own. They got rid of her honkin' SUV...traded it for a compact car. He had a monster truck, literally, which got downgraded to a regular truck. We didn't see them outside much anymore. They've got two really awesome kids...one is 6, one is 13. They used to be outside all. the. time. But we never saw them anymore. Then, one day a few weeks ago, a fancy pants Chevy Camaro rolls up in the driveway. It is NICE. It's like Transformers nice. We, thought, "Yay, they're doing okay!" But then, no more cars. No hanging out on their front steps like they used to. Nothing. This was like two weeks ago. Their grass is looking kind of iffy, whereas they used to keep it well-manicured all year long. But, y'all, we don't know where they are. I sound a little stalkerish, but when you live in a cul-de-sac, regular TV is boring, and you don't go anywhere because you live with two hoodlums, this is what I do. I keep an eye on our street. Their boat is still there and their trampoline. I'm usually not this much of a busy-body (ha, that's a lie), but it's just weird, right? We never saw a moving truck. I mean, they could have moved in the middle of the night, but I doubt that. It's a big two-story, so a lot of stuff to load. Anyways. I will keep you apprised of the missing neighbor situation.
I was telling Katie C the other day about the house wrens that annually lay eggs in the nest at the top of our patio. My desk is right in front of the window and I can watch them. Again, a little stalkerish, but it's birds, right. Mama laid her eggs in April, I think. I've been watching Mom and Dad take such good care of them for weeks. Dad would bring Mom food while she was incubating. Mom cleaned the nest regularly. The eggs finally hatched and, God love them, those critters were U-G-L-Y, they ain't got no alibi. But they grew some feathers, put on some weight, and cleaned up real nice. There were five, originally. One died. I thought the Mom was throwing him out, she kept pulling him up and he was hanging on the side of the nest. I was about to run outside and catch him if he fell. Then, she flew away with him. I realized he had died and she was carrying him away. David and I had an unnecessarily long conversation about whether or not birds mourn for their babies that die or is it just instinct. Anyways, the other four thrived and got fatter and fatter. I figured they'd walk the rest of their lives because their wings could never lift the cargo. But they did. The last baby flew away yesterday morning and I got to watch him leave. And then I was sad. I told Katie it was like watching a sitcom or reading a book...you grow attached to these characters and then the show/book ends and they're gone. Now, all I have to watch in the back yard is the epic battle between stray cats Joaquin and Deschanel.
I realized this is the most boring post ever. I promise I'll make it up to you soon.
The girls have now shifted from Yo Gabba Gabba to all things Disney, which is fine by me, because Disney is way more tolerable than YGG. Their new thing is to point at what they want and say "this." They've perfected their fake laugh and use it often in public settings. It's a very polite laugh, I must say. I used to would say that Harper was the bully, but Piper Lee has stepped up her game. Harper steals pacifiers right out of your mouth, but Piper Lee will throw Harp's snuggle blanket out of reach, which is the most devastating thing you could do to Harper. They'll do stuff like that, but the next second, they're sitting side by side reading a book. I've trained them to throw away their own diapers. Trained...as in, yes, like a dog. It's not like you can reason with them at this age. They clap and say "yay!" at the end of songs I sing to them, which makes me feel like Beyoncé. Bathtime is more like "How Much Water Can We Get Out of the Tub" time. But, it keeps them happy, so we don't mind cleaning up.
Anyways. I'm gonna go eat something. I hope none of you have died from boredom just now. "Bueller...Bueller...."