Thursday, January 29, 2009

It's a good thing we don't grow zucchini

This morning when Eric left for school, we found that someone had hung a can opener on our doorknob.

I think I have a pretty good idea who is to blame.

We've been in a bit of a "can opener war" with our next-door neighbors for a few days now.

First of all, let me say that I LOVE my neighbors. On either side of us, we have awesome neighbors. They don't complain when Heather screams through the walls, they don't play loud music our have guitar jam sessions at all hours of the night, and when we go out of town during the summer, they are more than willing to water our backyard container garden. They're fabulous.

So, Sunday afternoon, Mrs. Southside neighbor came over, asking to borrow our can opener. Apparently she was just about to begin making a gourmet meal for Mr. Southside neighbor when their one and only can opener broke. Eric jumped to the rescue, offering her ours, and telling her to keep it, because we are pretty much rolling in can openers. (Oh yeah. I've got a quirky husband, an adorable daughter, AND I'm rolling in can openers. Jealous yet?)

I was a little apprehensive at first, thinking that he was giving away my favorite one, but as he showed me our collection, I was more than happy to part with one (and it wasn't my favorite after all). Mrs. Southside refused to do more than borrow it, and brought it back about an hour later. Eric was napping, and so I accepted it, knowing that Eric would be disappointed, but not wanting to be obnoxious about it.

So, last night, Eric chanced to look in the utensil/can opener drawer. Seeing our collection, he was seized with another fit of I-don't-know-what, and determined that like it or not, Mr. & Mrs. Southside were going to have one of our can openers. He marched right over, can opener in hand, with plans to demand that they take it.

They weren't home. He left it on their doorknob, and returned home pleased beyond pleased with himself.

Until this morning.

Logan & Elizabeth (Southside)--lock your cars: He's planning to go there next.

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