I'm Sorry

I need to shove the words off my tongue, but I don't want to. I was a lippy kid, and mi Madre endured many episodes of me pointing my know-it-all finger at her while my mouth sprayed nasty things like: "You hate me" and "You're the worst for making take piano. I hate piano" (I'm taking adult piano lessons). I'd eventually come to my teenage senses and shove out an I'm sorry because she and I had to be on good terms before any of my extracurriculars were approved. I regret talking to her like that. I really do. I'm reminded of this picture. Only I'd be wearing a different shade of lipstick. Pink isn't me.

I'm older now. I should know better. But sometimes I fall prey to spattering out a little teenage mouth spray, and I ain't referring to Binaca, chicas. Carolyn lives behind me. She isn't the "sweet" that Neil Diamond sings about. She's old. The kind of old that spends her time filling bird feeders, feeding stray cats, and hanging wind chimes. She doesn't like kids(got 3) or barking dogs (there'd be a lot less of that if she got rid of the cats). I made the mistake of giving her my phone number when we moved in. I was trying to be a nice. Never do either. Phone# + way too nice=disaster. Thank Buddha for caller I.D.

Carolyn's Complaints

1. Your dog is loud (she took that one to the H.O.A. We got a notice. Twice).

2. Your kids keeping looking into our yard (No they don't. They got scared when they saw your lady sags hanging out of your swimming suit. Be sensible and put those away, Carolyn).

3. Your trees' leaves are falling into my pool and the roots are ruining our fence (We spent 500 dollars removing the trees after the 80th call).

4. Your yard guy keeps blowing debri into my yard. I can't enjoy my morning swing time because there's dust all over everything (We've told Rudy that she's loca and to be careful when blowing. She called Rudy too. He pretended that he couldn't understand English. I love Rudy.)

Here's where the spraying comes in: I went out to the backyard and noticed a H-U-G-E pile of branches tossed at the base of one of our trees. I asked mi Amor if he'd been trimming. He hadn't; but Carolyn had. She was bugged that our branches were hanging over the fence into her yard, so she cut and tossed them back. I was D-O-N-E. I marched into the house and speed dialed mean Carolyn.

"Hello, this is Carolyn!"

"I know. Did you toss some branches into our yard?"

"No. Well, I cut some branches, but I told Mike to put them in the trash.

"He didn't. I can't believe how incredibly rude you are. I could only dream of having enough free time to notice that my neighbor's tree branches were in my yard. You're crazy, old, and pathetic. Never call me again. Ever."

Mi Amor was aghast when I hung up the phone. He said I was harsh. I was. I didn't mean the old and pathetic part. Tomorrow I'll shove the words out onto an apology letter and mail them to her. I'm sorry. I really am.

A little afterthought: Mi Amor read this post and informed that I never told Carolyn that she was "old" and "pathetic." I guess my story telling was a little juiced-up. Sorry. Except for those two words, everything else is t-r-u-e.