Dear Upstairs Neighbor,
Although there are many many things I could write you a letter about, such as your excessive noise, awful cigarettes, and poor parking skills for example, instead I have chosen to write you about what a wus you are.
At first I thought you were a bit kind because you were worried either for my safety or the baby’s when you heard loud yelling and a burst of crying. Granted if you were thinking we were having a DV spat, you probably should have called the police. But whatever, even if you were too wussy to make sure we were ok yourself, at least you still were thinking of us.
But not so. As it turns out you called the landlord on us to complain of a strong pinesol smell. PINESOL. Last time I checked people who are all tough and have tough friends and “connections” aren’t supposed to be wussy. Especially not about smells. And really, not only did it bother you to the point of CALLING THE LANDLORD but you also had to complain to me about it? What about all those times I didn’t call the landlord? Did they mean nothing to you? I guess not.
But I should thank you for one thing, you have inspired me to clean more. With pinesol.
With fondness of a clean floor,
We had late church on Sunday and Aaron must have been feeling kind (or sick of the dirty bathroom) and went to town giving it a good clean. He cleaned the floors with pinesol, and instead of diluting it like one capful to a gallon, he used it directly on the floor. Yuck. It smelled pretty bad, but nothing life threatening.
Around 8pm I was feeding the baby when he decided to use his teeth for evil. I shouted “OUCH! NO!” and scared him and he started screaming. No big deal, he calmed down quick and we were all fine. But I realized our upstairs neighbor was in his office right above our room, and perhaps he thought something distressing was going on. I didn’t give it a second thought.
Just before 10pm there was a knock at our door. It was our landlord who lives next door. Aaron answered and it went like this:
L: Hi, are you all ok?
A: Yeah why?
L: I got a call from upstairs, they said it smelled strong like pinesol.
A: I cleaned the floor… We are fine…
L: Ok have a good night.
Aaron and I then laughed thinking maybe he was concerned about a domestic violence dispute in our house, and that he was too wussy to come downstairs and knock himself (this is only funny for a reason that I cannot say on the blog, but trust me that it’s funny. just that he has “connections” so he should not be such a wus) or that he really hated pinesol and called the landlord about it. Because come on, it was stinky, but we didn’t die. And plus he smokes the stinkiest stinkiest cigarettes in the entire world, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the smell that comes down through his vents.
I thought it was over but last night when I was out at the BBQ the neighbor walked by and asked if we were all ok with the pinesol smell. I smiled politely and said yes, that Aaron just hadn’t diluted it. He then proceeds to tell me that it was so horrible that he couldn’t go in his house for two days, and had to keep the windows open all night (great, we share the heating bill). Even though I just smiled on the outside, on the inside I was like wah wah, really, you are a grown man who calls the landlord about PINESOL??? When we have NEVER called about your 3am ultra-loud dance parties or your stanky smoke smell, or how you think that the entire carport is yours and park accordingly? Silly silly man. I won’t miss you when we move.