This morning the family Beehive were all getting ready to do the first school run of the day when two vans pull into the drive. A small posse of men alight from said vehicles and explain they are here on our landlord's request to tidy and trim the trees and bushes around the periphery of the property - no problem!
The usual round up of missing small Beehives is complete and I am about to jump in the car when I hear the all too familiar voice of our lovely next door neighbour, remember, the one who mows her lawn in the pitch black of night OR at 5.30am on a Sunday morning. Standing in our driveway she is instructing the men not to touch bushes that are between the properties, claiming they are on her land and we (The Beehive clan as one) are not nice to her - of course we aren't we ask her nicely to stop mowing - what nasty neighbours we are, as if we should deny her the pleasure and allow ourselves an extra half hour of sleep!!
I shrug and don't enter into the conversation other than to add the odd rolling of eyes and precede to call our landlord - his land, his neighbour, his problem - I know, but it is whhhaaay too early to get into boundary battles AND remember the mozzie bites - they are making me somewhat venomous today!
Dear wife of poor landlord is highly apologetic and promises to sort things out.
I drive away.
Halfway to school I realise I am actually upset that I am shaking, over the fact she was so adamant that we were in the wrong to stop her mowing and also - (I don't think you ever heard about this one!) called in the cops when her friend started to pull down trees with his car that ended up falling on our house, oh this was a SECOND tree, I am not talking about the original tree that fell on our house that she then tried to chainsaw into pieces whilst it was tangled up in LIVE electric cables!!!! Hmmm. so WE are the villans eh? I am sure this is the stuff of British Reality Telly!! Neighbourhood wars!
Fast forward to a manic half hour on the treadmill to try to dispel my shakes and induce a sense of calm.
I then decide to take the three parcels for England to the Post Office. Now, this is NOT an errand to be taken lightly, at best, one can be in and out within ten, at worst, like today, nearl7y 45 minutes later!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Note to all my friends and rellys, next birthday/Christmas, you are all getting Amazon vouchers. The US Postal Service has become an American Institution - USPS actually stands for Uber Shitty Poor Service! Or maybe I am being a little harsh - perhaps it is actually more a skill that my LOCAl office takes pride in.
Firstly I need custom labels - are they in the tray where they are meant to be? No, of course not, so I politely (remember I HAVE run a mile and a half by this point and my aura is now green over red!) ask if he could pass me some from behind the counter.
"You have to get in line" he snaps back - such dulcet tones
"Thank you, you are so kind." Kowtowing I back off to the line.
On receipt, finally of my labels I now join the back of the line which has since gone from two cashiers and two people in the queue to one cashier and 9 people in the queue - they laugh at us behind closed circuit tv!
At one point, there is a little glimmer of hope, another cashier brings through till drawers and books of stamps, everyone is salivating that this might be the hour that we get through the PO and on to life outside....................no! False alarm, this was merely a set up to test our perserverence.
The first of our group leave, you were so close lady, you were third in the line, what a waste of a wait - you should have stayed........enjoy the daylight....................we'll miss you!!
Teasing us in strategic positions around this four walled prison are signs "Lightspeed Service" an advert for Star Wars stamps - of course - it would hardly be a real SIGN now would it!
Kermit the Frog is laughing at me manically from a bag for sale on a wall - I can just hear him - "Now who is the muppet, baby???"
Temperatures are rising, as are eyebrows and there is very quietly and occasionally the release of a sigh from someone leaning on the furniture - oblivious to the menacing sign about NOT doing that - Uh Oh! They may be in for more torture.
Finally it is my turn, the cashier who has been toying with us, eventually cracks and decides to open up shop......................45 minutes after stepping into this hell hole, I emerge, three parcels, $30 and my sanity lighter!
It is now time for my treat to myself - See, I burn off exactly the right amount of calories by running a mile and a half, to award myself a frappucino from the coffee shop.
I pass by two moms walking their charges in strollers, one is a single stroller, the other an obviously new, double stroller. How do I know this? Well, she is full in the delights of telling her pal all about it:
"Daahhling Manhattan simply ADOOOOREs this new stroller, he can sit next to baby Texas blah blah"
Yup right, sweet little Manhattan simply adores this place because it is out of earshot of mommy so he can practise his pronunciation:
"Shit, shit, shit" he repeats happily to himself.
I give him a big grin!!! Ah mamas, wake up and smell the coffee.
Coffee in hand, I leg it to school to pick up Little Miss Beehive before I earn myself bad-mom of the year award (again!). Pulling into the drive, the calm drains from me once more thanks to the arrival of Botox Mommy.
Yet again, she is sat in the "kiss and go" parking space in her 15L, personalized plated, larger-than-our-house-in-the-UK, Sodding Uneccessary Vehicle with her engine still running, gabbing on the phone. She does this everyday. What is wrong with turning OFF the engine???
Hmmmmm, I wonder what would happen if I recycle my empty coffee cup up her exhaust pipe???
And it is only lunchtime!!
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