The Baboon.

Baboon I still remember The Baboon. His real name was Bill but I eloquently dubbed him “The Baboon” because he was sooo obnoxious. The Baboon was the most obnoxious neighbour that we ever had. This was 3 houses ago; not at our last house where we had the fire, but 2 houses before that,and the war escalated in the summer of 1989, when I was expecting my first child, just before they moved, and we moved shortly after. Technically, he wasn’t even our neighbour; it was his girlfriend and her 2 kids that lived next door; he was her boyfriend but he stayed over almost every night so it was almost like he lived there. They were both teachers( yeah, I know, right; “great” examples for the kids they taught AND for HER kids!) and she was a divorced mother of 2 boys. Every night they would be going at it like rabbits, and LOUD,too,and I would hear it thru the wall; the bed would be creaking and squeaking and banging against the ajoining wall that also happened to be on the other side of MY bedroom wall and it kept me awake and not exactly something that I wanted to hear,either.

That wasn’t the only thing. He also had this piece of shit jalopy van that always leaked oil everywhere but instead of parking it in her perfectly good driveway(I guess he didn’t want to ruin hers) he’d always park it in front of OUR house, leaving unsightly oil stains on our property, even when we asked him nicely to park elsewhere, and then it only got worse from there. Then they proceeded to make life even more difficult for us, incl. every morning when they woke up and left early they would intentionally slam EVERY SINGLE DOOR in their house loudly to wake us up, throw eggs at our house, and make snide comments to us every time he saw us. He was a real jerkweed.

So, one day, we’d had enough and decided to fight back. He even enraged my hubby, who, up to this point, had said that NO ONE had ever annoyed him as much as him and that he’d never been inclined to seek “revenge” on anyone like this before. First of all, we called The City on him to report his oil spills. They sent a guy over to inspect it and they went over and talked to him. That STILL didn’t end it, so we “upped” it and took matters into our own hands. Every time we saw The Baboonmobile parked at our place we would do something to it to discourage him from parking there , so he’d park in her driveway where he belonged. When he had the van window open we threw a big cup of pop into the front seat. We put the sprinkler out on the front lawn and let it go thru the open window.We threw eggs at it, poured molasses on the front window, stuck peanut-butter soaked bread on both headlights (A “Baboonmobile” sandwich!), let the air out of the tires,etc .nothing to vandalize and cause real damage, but just enough to annoy him so he’d  get the hint and park elsewhere. One time the sneaky bugger was even hiding in the back of the van with a camera to try and get a photo but he missed.We also put them on a “Jehovah’s Witness” magazine mailing list, and we’d phone them during the middle of the night and let it ring and ring and wake them up every night and then hang up.

It would work for a few days; he’d park in her driveway(and we’d stop) but then he’d end up back at our place again(and we’d resume). One time he even called the police on us, but this was also right after he’d put cracked raw eggs in OUR mailbox, so when the cops came over we told them about our history and what he’d done to us and showed them the eggs in the mailbox, and then we laughed gleefully as we watched them march over there, yelling at HIM! The night before they moved we also threw a big party in their honour where we invited a bunch of our friends and put a big banner out the front that said “Farewell losers!” and gave them a send-off they’ll never forget: one of my friends peed on their doorstep, we used the fence dividing  our backyards as a net and played badminton, put the license plate of his van on backwards, and blasted music so loud(incl. “Beastie Boys” “You’ve Got A Right To Party”) it shook both our houses! We expected they’d call the police( but it would have been SO worth it!) but they never did. In fact, we didn’t hear a peep out of them all night! We had won the war! The next day when they moved he gave us this smug smirk and mouthed off to us and even his friend that was helping him move gave him this disgusted look as if thinking, “What the hell is WRONG with you, man? Grow up!”

I will never forget The Baboon!

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Also, our 9 YR old has a crush on Juanes, this Latino singer from Colombia, even though he’s like 40 YRS old, and she HATES Alice Cooper! I really like his music and every time she hears me play his music she’ll scream and leave the room, but not for the reason you might think; she just hates the NAME Cooper for some reason, even though that’s not even his real name( but his stage name): it’s actually Vincent Furnier!