We've decided to officially declare ourselves "settled" and determined the best way to meet the neighbors in bulk would be to host an open house. Tonight, right around sunset, we took a little stroll around the neighborhood to put invitations in peoples' mailboxes. One would think something so innocuous would be less than noteworthy. Fortunately, when Lindsay is involved, material is never an issue.
While making the rounds we were able to meet a couple neighbors that we hadn't previously. Both sets were a father out playing some sort of sport with a kid. The first was a father and son hitting a baseball into a net in the driveway. We stopped for a brief chat, introduced ourselves, and learned about their favorite BBQ joint and that they had recommendations for doctors and dentists. Important, pertinent things about moving to a new city.
As we approached the end of the second culdesac we noticed a father playing some sort of paddle ball game with his daughter. We deposited the invitations in the mailboxes and stopped to introduce ourselves. We had a pleasant conversation and then Lindsay made some comment about the daughter, who was fourteen, looking like Katniss from The Hunger Games. I found this odd for a number of reasons not the least of which was Lindsay comparing a new neighbor's daughter to a cold-blooded killer. Thankfully, the daughter was a Hunger Games fanatic and wasn't the least bit concerned. In fact, she had read the books, seen the movie, and considered herself a bit of a mix of Rue, Katniss, and Prim. First crisis averted.
But here's where it got interesting. Any time Lindsay has asked anyone if they've read The Hunger Games trilogy, her follow-up question is always (and I mean ALWAYS) asking whether they've read the other hot trilogy of the past couple years, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. No different this time; she was on autopilot. So yes, she asked a fourteen year old whether she had read Steig Larsson's masterpiece (coincidentally also about a female killer but aimed at a slightly different demographic than the young adult crowd in The Hunger Games).
All I could muster was, "yeah, you can probably tell we don't have kids."
It feels nice to make a good first impression.
While making the rounds we were able to meet a couple neighbors that we hadn't previously. Both sets were a father out playing some sort of sport with a kid. The first was a father and son hitting a baseball into a net in the driveway. We stopped for a brief chat, introduced ourselves, and learned about their favorite BBQ joint and that they had recommendations for doctors and dentists. Important, pertinent things about moving to a new city.
As we approached the end of the second culdesac we noticed a father playing some sort of paddle ball game with his daughter. We deposited the invitations in the mailboxes and stopped to introduce ourselves. We had a pleasant conversation and then Lindsay made some comment about the daughter, who was fourteen, looking like Katniss from The Hunger Games. I found this odd for a number of reasons not the least of which was Lindsay comparing a new neighbor's daughter to a cold-blooded killer. Thankfully, the daughter was a Hunger Games fanatic and wasn't the least bit concerned. In fact, she had read the books, seen the movie, and considered herself a bit of a mix of Rue, Katniss, and Prim. First crisis averted.
But here's where it got interesting. Any time Lindsay has asked anyone if they've read The Hunger Games trilogy, her follow-up question is always (and I mean ALWAYS) asking whether they've read the other hot trilogy of the past couple years, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. No different this time; she was on autopilot. So yes, she asked a fourteen year old whether she had read Steig Larsson's masterpiece (coincidentally also about a female killer but aimed at a slightly different demographic than the young adult crowd in The Hunger Games).
All I could muster was, "yeah, you can probably tell we don't have kids."
It feels nice to make a good first impression.
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