Neighbours From Hell
Shortly after moving house my parents started getting very friendly with the neighbours. No surprise there really, they were roughly the same age and the neighbours also had two sons. These two sons were a couple of years older than me and my brother so we never really hung out with them, but we'd heard from the other neighbourhood kids that their mum was strict to the point of being bizarre. The one that always stuck in my mind was that they made their own food when they got in from school but it could only ever be sandwiches. The reason for this? Their mother 'didn't want to be met by smells as she came in the front door'!

Pretty soon our parents were taking it in turns going to each other's house once a week for dinner. One night when I was about 13, my parents came home from one such dinner party and announced that they'd been talking about the rules of the house next door and thought they should introduce them here. I groaned, full of visions of living on sandwiches forever, but no, a different rule had caught their attention. The sons next door could only ever have one friend in at a time. Now this may not sound too bad and might make me seem a bit spoilt but at that age me and my mates always seemed to hang around in clumps of three. It wasn't as if I was filling their house every night or anything. From now on, however, every time we headed to my house I had to pick one friend and tell the other one to go home! It was horrible. Even worse was the fact that none of my friends believed that such a stupid rule could even exist and that I was just being an arse. In the space of about a month the rule was no longer necessary as I had no bloody friends left.

I fucking hated that woman from then on. I'm pretty sure she had a house rule about no one pissing through their letterbox while they were away on holiday. Didn't bloody stop me though. Bitch.
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Sun 11 Mar 2007, 18:44, Reply)