First Impressions

Today is the day we’ve been waiting for! After three long years of suffering the snubs of our sucky neighbors we are finally getting new ones!  HOORAY!

Now, I don’t mean to be the crazy neighbor already but I’ve been stalking the window all day long.  So far no sign of them.  But I’m gonna be ready when they get here…

First impressions are very important you know. 

I started the preparation for our first impression last night as I was getting ready for bed.  I picked out my prettiest pajamas knowing full well there was a pretty good chance I would still be in them when the newbies arrived. 

“Do you think new neighbors like floral patterns with stains on the thigh or plaid flannels with a hole in the crotch?”

By some miracle of miracles I was actually up and dressed early this morning…like, in clothes!  The picking out of that outfit was excruciating.

“Do you think the new neighbors like trendy or preppy?”

I wanted them to pull up and see that I was cute and accessible.  And then they would say to each other “Wow, that mother next door is super cute, yet totally accessible.”

I ended up in skinny jeans (to look trendy), with a cuff (to look preppy) and then a cardigan (to look motherly).  Best of all worlds.

I then proceeded to clean my entire house.  I frantically told my husband that I didn’t know if I would have enough time to wash the floors before they came.

“You do realize they aren’t moving into OUR house right?”

Ok, but what if they need to borrow something? Do we want them to think we don’t wash our floors? Then they’ll say “We used to think that cute, trendy, preppy Mom next door was accessible…but now we just think she’s dirty.”

We can’t have that.

So it’s now 2pm and I’ve been waiting since 8am to make my first impression (actually 10pm last night if you count the pajama planning) and they haven’t even shown up yet. 

In reality, however, I’m pretty sure I already made my first impression while they were having their home inspection. 

We were playing outside and I found a tick in Carter’s hair.  So in the middle of their inspection they saw me and my other neighbor holding him down on the ground while he screamed bloody murder and I cursed “SHIT! Shit I can’t get it!” 

That’s a first impression they probably won’t soon forget.

UPDATE:

I wrote this post on Monday.  We saw no sign of them all day.  Today is Wednesday.  I pulled into my driveway after gymnastics class with the boys and there they were.

So this is how I ended up meeting them: Wearing yoga pants and a sweatshirt, no make-up, hair in a pony tail and carrying Carter who had kicked off his shoe in the middle of an epic tantrum and was screaming "MY SHOE! MY SHOE!" at the top of his lungs.

Welcome to the neighborhood!