Friends,
I have a problem.
Our next door neighbor is a nice enough fellow. Early 50s, kids grown and gone, and IIRC divorced about 10 years ago. Interesting enough guy, intelligent, good dinner companion. A bit odd in some ways (for example, he rents out a bedroom to students from time to time, and from the traffic to and from the house it reminds me a bit of a hostel), but whatevah.
A few weeks ago, he invited us (including the Gaplets) over to dinner with another couple and with his new ladyfriend. Ladyfriend has two kids, relatively close in age to the Gaplets. (They are 7 and 5, the Gaplets are 6 and 3.) Dinner was a bit chaotic, as would be the case anytime you have a house with 4 small children in it, but enjoyable enough.
Since then, whenever the ladyfriend comes over to the neighbor's house, she sends the boys over to come play.
Now normally, mind you, this isn't a problem. We have other kids over from time to time, and send ours to go terrorize the homes of the Gaplets' friends as well. But there are several things about this particular arrangement that are getting under my skin:
- * The ladyfriend never calls to either ask permission for or announce the kids' impending arrival. They simply appear at the door. If nothing's going on at the time, that's fine, but if we've got other visitors, or plans, or need to draw pentagrams in the backyard without interruption, then we've got a problem.
* A small point, but there's no reciprocity here. We'll be sitting for her kids whenever she wants to come visit, but there's never been any discussion about our guys going over to their house.
* The kids lack the politeness gene, or training, on of the two. (Ms. Gap and I have taken to calling these two kids, between ourselves, the Street Urchins.) This flaw manifests itself in a number of ways, ranging from arrival (not asking if the Gaplets are free to play, but marching in upon the door's opening) to negotiations ("You have friends over for dinner? When will you be done? Can we come back in 10 minutes? 30 minutes?") to departure (it's hard to get them to leave -- apparently the Rule of 3 applies, where the explanation that the playdate has to end now needs to be repeated. And repeated.)
* The Street Urchins prefer more violent games than the Gaplets are used to.
* We find ourselves doing a little more proxy parenting than we would expect when handling the children of a woman with whom we've spent a single evening over dinner. "No, guys, you can't climb the tree in the front yard." "No, I'm afraid you can't 'borrow' that toy until next time. It's one of the Gaplet's favorite toys."
* How can I best put this? I hate them. It's hard to fully articulate this in a single post, but the things they say, the things they do, IMO have little redeeming value. The older Urchin will, I believe, soon grow up to be torturing small animals. The look I find in his eyes is the look of one who, under the surface, is accustomed to challenging authority figures. The younger Urchin isn't quite as toublesome, but it's just a matter of time.
We haven't taken any steps yet, largely because Ms. Gap and I have been taking all this in and at different moments being amused, perturbed, and appalled. In any event, this state of affairs won't continue. I am a bit concerned, though, about resolving it without souring our relationship with the neighbor, or needlessly creating an enemy in the ladyfriend.
Random solutions range among the following:
* Ignore it, hope for a breakup
* Move to new city
* Four Words: Front door spring gun
* Require the Mom to call ahead to ask
* Declare that the Urchins are dead to us
But I'm sure that more creative solutions are out there, and I know our little group is up to the task.
Gattigap
