Today, one of the many sisters who live two floors up called Anna a boy. Anna was wearing a white outfit with ruffles and flowers and a purple headband.
The one rotund son of the family two floors up calls to his mother... (who is inside her apartment... with the door shut... two floors up...) while standing right outside Anna's window... while she's napping... some days.
The woman upstairs vacuums her whole apartment. At 9:47 PM. most days.
Every day, the one rotund little boy who lives two floors up tries to throw his soccer ball up to his apartment... two floors up.
Every day, the ball lands in our patio, often after crashing into the door.
Every day, the rotund little boy is shocked! With wide eyes, he stands there. With his hands over his open mouth, he doesn't know what to do.
Every day, we go outside and throw the ball back to him. "Sorry!" he squeaks. Then he runs away.
Every day. Every day.
Won't you be... please, won't you be... please, won't you be my neighbor?