That "flea" makes life a living hell
Was it only last week that I was enjoying peace and quiet, with the neighbours away? Seems like months ago now. Living next door to the boy flea is hell, have I mentioned that? Even more hellish for the mother, who was sitting outside yesterday evening, crying. I didn't realize she was in tears out there, had taken my knitting out and sat down. I knew she was out on their deck because I saw her, and she looked rather worn out and dejected I might add. But I didn't realize she was having a melt-down until after I had gotten comfy and started knitting. So I felt badly for being a witness, but didn't want to (possibly) make her feel worse by getting up and going back inside. I figured she'd realize I knew she was upset. She stayed out for a bit, then gathered the toys up and went back inside. Poor woman probably has no where to escape and I only made it worse, though not intentionally. Today the boy has been screaming his blankity-blank head off, off and on, a...