Once upon a time we lived in this adorable little house. We just moved a few months after my tot was born and I suppose it should have sent up red flags when the day we actually walked through the front door to stay my son accidentally set the microwave on fire. However, after the firemen and the police officers left, we got situated in our new home in this small quaint town.
That is until the little girl next door came over.
A few days after we moved in she came skipping over to our house with her long blonde hair, dress and sneakers, and wanting to come inside. After the initial confusing stutters of apology for not knowing who she was or where her parents were, my oldest (who was 12 at the time) said he would go outside and play. A few hours later her Mom came over, introduced herself and apologized for her daughters lack of shyness and we hit it off as neighborly friends.
Then the little girl started coming over every day and if my son said he didn’t want to play outside she would march herself into our house and plant herself there. It took the sheer force of will to remove her from my couch. She wouldn’t budge, she was there to play. Play with my infant, me, my son, by god someone was going to play with her. Oftentimes I just had to force her out of the house.
Things took a turn for the worst when my son started meeting friends his own age at school and making a place for himself with his peers. He no longer wanted to play with the little girl next door and she went from abrasive to practically demonic overnight.
- One day we realized pieces of our porch fence was missing – she tore them off because my son wouldn’t play with her.
- Another day our cat went missing – it conveniently appeared an hour after my son told her he was putting up fliers.
- Once she was on top of my husband’s truck and was going to bash it in with a bat if my son wouldn’t play what she wanted him to play.
Not knowing what exactly the little girl next door was capable of, we told my son he wasn’t allowed to ever play with her again. Which, I found out later, was what the other neighbors also told their daughter due to similar circumstances. Instead of my son answering the door, I just constantly told her he was grounded and with an evil glare she would walk away watching me.
The grounding excuse didn’t apparently stick. One beautiful morning I made a brunch for all of us. Our table was centered in the middle of crescent windows that looked out over the front yard. The windows were open to the sunlight coming in and we were all smiling having a great morning. I gave my little chubby baby a bite of food and turned toward my husband who had his back to the windows and choked on a scream. There she was, the little girl next door, watching us eat our breakfast with her face on the window.
We asked politely that she leave because we were eating breakfast, so she walked to our sliding doors on the other side of the kitchen and watched us from there. We shut all the blinds in our house, so she took to standing at our front door where there was a decorative oval glass window that couldn’t be covered.
What do you do in that circumstance? I remember wanting to talk to her mom once since we’d become decent enough neighborly friends, but even she seemed overrun by her daughter. She was just one of those little girls that always got what they wanted, spoiled to the core.
I asked that she not spy in my windows any longer and we began to just kind of hide away in our house not having anything to do with any of our neighbors until we wound up moving 6 months later.
The other day my husband and I were musing over old photos of when we decorated our first Christmas Trees and there she was. Helping to put up our first Christmas for Judah because she refused to leave our house that evening and I couldn’t get a hold of her mom. So she is locked there in our family memories for eternity, holding tinsel and staring at the camera.
Have you ever had creepy kids living next door? What would you have done?