Dear next door neighbor,
Despite my appearance this morning … and most mornings you see me, … I promise I own nice clothes. I realize that the pink and purple pajama pants didn’t match my yellow shirt and orange hoodie this AM, and that my white socks with old black dress shoes aren’t exactly in style, but when the dog has to go, she has to go. Just like yesterday when I finally gave into her whining at the door whilst wearing my red bathrobe and fuzzy black slippers. (Fortunately for me, I didn’t yet have my contacts in, so I’m not sure what kind of look you had on your face when you looked over into our yard.)
Oh, and about that time with the raincoat and flashlight, I promise I had shorts on underneath. I doubt my walking the fence line at dawn in said attire is the first thing you want to see over a cup of Folgers, but I assure you, it was less fun for me.
In the future, next door neighbor, how ’bout we make a deal? If you promise not to look over before I leave for work in the morning, or after, say, 9 p.m., I’ll try my best to ignore your three dogs’ incessant yipping. After all, if you can’t count on a neighbor to ignore you once in a while, who can you count on?
The one in the bathrobe