"For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?" - Jane Austen

It is THAT time again, folks! Yep, time for yet another installment of “Toolson Tidbits”!

I know, I know. It’s been waaaay too long since my last update on my next door neighbors. Not that I have been without material, mind you (that would be impossible!).

Anyway, like before, I’m going to do this in INCIDENT REPORT format. If you need to be reminded of previous stories about the Toolson’s, please visit HERE and HERE. Otherwise, I now leave you to the following:

INCIDENT #1

“Jane Doe” had baby number two on the day after Christmas. As you may or may not remember, there was some initial confusion as to Jane’s due date. She thought she was only three months pregnant this time last year, which was odd considering:

1. The size of her “baby bump” (i.e. third trimester BIG).



2. Her last period had been back in February.

But whatever. She had done the whole pregnancy thing before, so she obviously knew more about the process than I did.

She finally DID make it to the doctor, though, and not just over the phone, either. Apparently, both doctor and pregnant Jane were astonished to discover that she was in her sixth month. As if there was ANY doubt!!!

The news, albeit shocking, was also a relief to Jane who was thrilled to learn that baby number two may be born before the New Year (thus making it possible for her to claim two dependents on her taxes in 2007). Because that’s why people have babies in the first place – as a tax write off! Jane was so excited about the prospect that she actually scheduled her labor to be induced on December 30th (just, you know, to make sure!).

As luck would have it though, little Savannah came out on her own the day after Christmas.

Thank goodness…


INCIDENT #2

In the spring, I was asked to hold Savannah while her mother ran inside to grab something. This was when I learned that babies vibrate just before they blow their diapers off.

[Note: Baby poop does NOT smell sweeter than regular poop.]


INCIDENT #3

I could not figure out why Gypsy Kitty was always so traumatized when I left her inside during the day. So, like any good investigator, I started coming home randomly during the day to check on her in an attempt to figure out what the problem was.

During one of these mid morning visits, I learned that Jet (the two year old) found it amusing to run up to my front door, bang on it, hear my dogs bark and then run away.

Ah-ha!

Since this activity was stressing Gypsy out so much (she’d literately start trembling when she heard him coming), I politely asked “Jane Doe” to keep Jet from running over and banging on the front door. Jane seemed to understand, and promised to keep Jet away.

Things got better for awhile, but it wasn’t long before I started to notice the same traumatized-dog behavior from Gypsy when I returned home each day. Thinking the problem must still be Jet running over and banging on the door, I started randomly returning home again during the morning or mid afternoon. My thought process was: I’d catch Jet in the act and confront Jane about his behavior once again.

What I discovered, however, was slightly different from before. Now, instead of Jet running over and banging on the door, I found Jane walking over to my front porch with her son and repeatedly ringing the doorbell. This evoked a similar reaction to Jet’s banging (i.e. barking dogs).

Trying hard not to lose my temper, I again asked Jane to stop bothering my dogs. She explained to me that her son just wanted to see them, and didn’t see the harm in going about it in the manner described. I persisted, though, and again she promised that such activities would stop.

Like before, things calmed down for awhile, but it wasn’t long before I started returning home to find BOTH a traumatized Gypsy Kitty AND teeth marks on front door. After doing a little more reconnaissance, I discovered that Jet was back to his old “bang and run” routine. Gypsy, unable to handle the stress, was now nervously chewing on the front door while she waited – terrified – for the screaming child to return to taunt her.

Knowing it would do no good to confront Jane again about the situation, I decided to buy a pet gate and barricade the dogs in the kitchen AWAY from the front door. This worked for almost an entire week before I returned home to find evidence that Gypsy had started chewing on the BACK door. Further inspection revealed several cigarette butts littered around my deck and backyard. Apparently, when Jane and Jet discovered that the dogs were being kept in the kitchen away from the front door, she started to bring her son to the back door instead.

Now, when my dogs have to be left inside (due to weather or extreme heat or cold), I have to barricade them in the back bedroom with the shades drawn and a portable radio playing soothing, classical music.


INCIDENT #4

While celebrating Gypsy Kitty’s 4th birthday last May (yes, I throw birthday parties for my dogs), my aunt noticed an odd odor wafting over the fence that separates my yard from the Toolsons. My aunt’s friend, Harriet, decided to investigate. She was gone approximately two minutes before returning and announcing in a loud whisper:

“Ya’ll! Her neighbors are sitting on their porch overlooking the driveway smoking marijuana! I recognize the smell from the 1960s!”


INCIDENT #5

I returned home one evening from the grocery store to discover Jet in my backyard digging a hole behind a bush with a plastic, yellow shovel. The backyard gate was closed, so it was unclear how he got in (the gate latch is too high for him to reach).

Anyway, not knowing what else to do, I picked Jet up, carried him across the driveway and knocked on the door. At first there was no answer (which almost sent me into a panic), but finally the grandmother walked past the door and I got her attention by waving at her through the window at the top of the door. It was clear she had just gotten home from the office.

Grandma Toolson: “Oh, hi! Were you babysitting Jet?”

Me: “Uh, no. I just came home from the store and found him digging in my backyard with his plastic shovel.”

Grandma Toolson: “Oh. That’s…that’s…well, it is NOT good, anyway. Where are his parents?”

Me: “I don’t know. I haven’t seen them. I was hoping they were inside.”

Grandma Toolson: “Hold on. Let me see if they are here. I just walked in the door. CHASE? CHASE? ARE YOU HOME?”

Chase: [From the other room] “Yeah? I’m right here, Mom.”

Grandma Toolson: “Where is Jet?”

Chase: “I dunno. With his mother?”

Grandma Toolson: “No. Want to try again?”

Chase: “I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him since I was working on the car in the driveway.”

Grandma Toolson: “When was that, exactly?”

Chase: “I dunno. An hour ago?”

Grandma Toolson: “Well, [Deals] from next door just found your baby in her backyard.”

Chase: [Running in from the other room] “Whaaaaat?!”

Grandma Toolson: “Yeah. My thoughts exactly. [Turning back to me] Thank you for returning my grandson.”

Me: “Sure. Anytime.”


INCIDENT #6

RR and JLR picked my dogs up from the doggie hotel one day last June. They agreed to do so as long as they could, A) do their laundry at my house, and B) watch my cable TV (a fair trade in my books).

Anyway, my flight didn’t get in until late that evening, so I didn’t make it home until almost 10 PM. However, NO SOONER did I pull in the driveway did I see my neighbor’s side door open and Mr. Toolson come barreling out towards me.

Mr. Toolson: “There were people in your house this afternoon. Two women. Did you know about that?”

Me: “Yeah. They picked up my dogs and delivered them here.”

Mr. Toolson: “Well, it also looked like they were planning on doing some laundry. By the looks of it, it was at least 4 or 5 loads. Did you know about THAT?”

Me: “Yeah. They asked me if they could do a few loads in exchange for picking up my dogs. I agreed.”

Mr. Toolson: “Well, did you know they ordered pizza, too?”

Me: “No. I didn’t know that.”

Mr. Toolson: “Well, they did. A pizza delivery man showed up with it and everything. Anyway, just thought you should know.”

Me: “Thank you, Mr. Toolson. I really appreciate you keeping tabs on my house while I am away.”

Mr. Toolson: “Just being neighborly.”

The best part of THIS incident was getting to call RR the next day and ask her how the pizza was. I think she thought I had my house bugged!


INCIDENT #7

Mark, my mentally challenged across the street neighbor, was recently put in a long term care facility because his parents became too ill to care for him (they are both in their late 80s).

Anyway, the day that Trevor and I were scheduled to leave Dallas for our Colorado vacation, Mark went missing. His family was literately going door to door in the neighborhood looking for him. The thought process was that he may try to return home – even though his parent’s house was on the market and no one was living in it anymore.

The lady who came to my house looking for him asked if I would mind letting the Toolsons know about Mark’s disappearance. Apparently, they weren’t home, but she thought if Mark DID show up in the neighborhood, he’d probably stop by the Toolsons house. After all, Mark had lived across the street from the Toolsons for almost four decades, so he’d probably go to them if/when he discovered he was no longer able to get inside his house.

About half an hour came and went before I heard the Toolson’s car pull into the driveway. I immediately went outside to greet them.

Me: “Hi.”

Chase: “Oh, hi.”

Me: “Have you seen or heard from Mark?”

Chase: “Uh, no. Why?”

I proceeded to tell Chase everything I had learned from the lady who stopped by my house looking for Mark.

Chase: “Oh, my! That’s horrible!”

Me: “I know! I’m worried about him! Poor guy!”

Chase: “I bet he’s with Jerry.”

Me: “Jerry?”

Chase: “Yeah. Jerry. You know Jerry, right?”

Me: “Uhmmm, no. I don’t think so, anyway.”

Chase: “Oh. Well, Jerry is the neighborhood crack head. He and Mark are friends. I bet Mark went to Jerry’s house.”

Me: “A crack head?”

Chase: “Yeah. Never give Jerry any money. He’ll say it is for a soda or something like that, but he ALWAYS finds a way to score crack with it.”

Me: “Oh.”

Chase: “Me and Jerry used to be close friends back when I was a crack head, too. I mean, Jerry is a good guy and all, but sometimes it’s hard to stay friends with someone when they are a crack head, you know?”

Me: “I could see that.”

Chase: “Yeah. Well, it is true.”

Me: “Well, here’s [the lady’s] phone number. Call her if you see or hear anything from Mark, okay? Or if you know where Jerry is, I bet she’d be interested in that information, too.”

Chase: “Oh, I bet he and Jerry are crashed out in one of the many East Dallas crack houses right now as we speak.”

Me: “Right. Well, if you figure out which one, let her know, okay?”

Chase: “Yeah. I can do that.”

Me: “Thanks.”

[NOTE: Mark was found and is doing fine.]


INCIDENT #8

Chase asked Trevor if he could borrow a dollar to buy baby formula. Trevor didn’t have any cash, so he gave them the $10 I keep hidden in my car for “parking emergencies”.

Trevor: “I’ll pay you back if they don’t okay?”

Me: “No problem. I feel bad for them, anyway. They live paycheck to paycheck. Plus, no telling where they buy baby formula for a $1. I know I’ve seen stuff at the grocery story that is upwards of $15 for a 12 oz. can. In fact, the cheapest I remember seeing it for was around $4 for a small jar of that concentrated liquid stuff. Sigh. It makes me feel bad when I consider how much I spend on my dogs every month, you know?”


INCIDENT #9

“Jane Doe” rang my doorbell one day because she:

1. Wanted to borrow an iron, so Chase could iron his pants.



2. Wanted to know if she had done the right thing by getting her tubes tied.

INCIDENT #10

Jane Doe was sitting on the driveway smoking a cigarette late one evening. Chase was busy cleaning the interior windows of his dad’s car with his white t-shirt. One swipe with the shirt on the window, and the cotton turned completely black with ash.

Chase: “Maybe we should start smoking with the windows done when the babies are in the car.”

Jane: “Why?”


INCIDENT #11

Was telling Jane Doe about our trip to Colorado and all the hikes Trevor and I went on…

Jane: “Did you see any animals?”

Me: “Oh, yeah. Lots of animals.”

Jane: “Like what?”

Me: “Geese, deer, marmots, beavers, chipmunks...”

Jane: “Any bear?”

Me: “No, no bears. Although, we saw evidence of bears on our hikes.”

Jane: “Like what?”

Me: “Feces and…”

Jane: “…Feces?! Oh, you mean like footprints?”


INCIDENT #12

Jane was outside late one night with Jet. I was just returning home after taking the dogs out on their evening walk. After chitchatting with Jane for a couple of minutes, I told her I was tired and started heading toward the door.

Jane: “Hold on, [Deals]. I want Jet to say, ‘Night, night’ to you. He’s really starting to talk a lot now and can even make sentences. Jet! Come over here for a second!”

Jet runs over. That boy RUNS everywhere. Always with his arms stuck out like wings on an airplane.

Jane: “Jet? Can you say, ‘Night, night’ to [Deals]?”

Jet: [With his hands on his hips for dramatic flare] “GOD D*MN IT!”

Both Jane and I watch as Jet turns around and runs back up the driveway. I think we are both too shocked to say anything. After all, it isn’t every day that you get sworn at by a two year old.

Finally…

Me: “It’s funny what kids pick up, huh?”

Jane: “Yeah. It is. I just wish he didn’t say THAT all the time.”

Me: “All the time, huh?”

Jane: “Yeah.”

Me: “Oh. That sucks.”

So, does anyone else have stories about their weirdo neighbors? I can’t be the only one, can I? Uh, hello? Anyone? Is anyone there?