Let me tell you a little Neighborhole tale.
A few months back, I was returning home late from a business trip.
The taxi driver pulled up half-way in front of my house and Neighborhole's driveway to drop me off.
The time: 12:45 A.M.
Low and behold, out comes Neighborhole and looking rather angry I might add.
He starts yelling at me, "Why-ah you park in my driveway?!"
I answer in my most polite and tired response, "I'll be just a minute, I need to pay the taxi driver."
"Why-ah you don't get dropped off in the alleyway? Why-ah you park in mah driveway?!"
To which I responded, "It's almost one in the morning. Are you going somewhere?"
"WHY-AH YOU PARK IN MY DRIVEWAY?!"
His angry red face glowed in the night sky.
Neighborhole continued shouting about his sacred driveway.
Patience worn thin, I asked Neighborhole if he had a job? I had just completed a 17-hour day of work.
He retreated inside for an answer to this difficult question.
Before I could open the front door to my house, out comes Marlon Brando with a murderous look on her face.
Marlon screams at me, "What-ah business is it of yours if he has a job?!"
More yelling ensued. What more could be said? And with that I went inside, closing the door on the yelling Neighborholes.
You would think it would have ended there. Nope. Not with good ole Neighborhole.
BANG! They threw something at the side of my house.
And with that, Neighborhole snuggled into bed probably dreaming up what he might throw next at my house.
