Yesterday I was headed out the door to pick up Hadley from school and I saw my neighbor walking up the driveway. She said “I brought a peace offering” as she handed over a box of Girl Scout Cookies (Trefoils)

“I didn’t want you to think I was a mean old woman. It’s just that my daughter had just skinner her knee and I was inside getting a band aid when your dog came into my house.” she said holding her youngest on her hip.

I was mortified.

“He came IN to your house??” I said trying to balance Finn the Meatball on my hip.

“Yeah,” she said sheepishly.

I apologized profusely and we made small talk for a minute. They just sold their house and are moving to Whidbey Island. She invited us over to play that afternoon and that was that.

I do feel AWFUL that my big, fat, dog faced boy was IN her house. Oy. And I sort of feel bad for talking all of that shit about them. Oh, wait. Ok, it passed. She still has a bad haircut and I still don’t find her genuine. Trefoils or no trefoils.

Insert curtsey here.