Borrow A Cup Of Formaldehyde?

Living on a cul de sac is a wonderful thing when you are a Gladys Kravitz type like me. I know everyone's name and what time they should be home everyday. All the neighborhood kids think I am cool because they use my driveway as the bicycle launching ramp and I don't care. I know the couple 3 doors down have affairs. I know the man across the way tried to add on to his house without getting a permit. I'll never turn him in because he got my dog off the roof once when I wasn't home.

The couple who live next to me (I call them Dork and Dindy) have not opened their blinds in 10+ years. No lie! Not even a crack. I bought this house from a friend who never saw them open a blind either in the five years he lived here. These neighbors are the type that don't smile or wave back at you when you see each other leaving or coming home. I liked them a little more when I convinced myself they were into kinky sex in their living room or had a sex slave and couldn't open the blinds. As it turns out, they are just assholes. Crazy assholes. I was pregnant for nine months, had a baby I walked in the stroller or played with in the front yard and never a word or a smile. Then I was out washing the car in the driveway one afternoon and Robby was in the stroller watching me. You can imagine my shock when Dork got his mail from his mailbox and started walking right towards me. I thought for sure he was finally going to say something about what an adorable child I had brought forth into this world. Instead he proceeded to not only not mention this or even say hello.

Dork:

We were noticing that you leave your garage door open a lot. Aren't you afraid
of burglars? We even close our door when we are home and working in the
backyard.

Me:

Well...when it is open, we are always home. The garage door opener is directly
under the crib and sometimes we don't want to close the door when Robby is
taking a nap. It's so loud it sometimes will wake him. We've never had a problem
with burglars before. Have you?

Dork:

We've had mice. But we have cats.

I had no idea how to respond to that so I just said it was nice talking and went back to washing the car. Now I admit I sometimes still imagine they have a sex slave. Only now its head is in their freezer.