I'm the old, crabby neighbor

We have a rental property next to our house. Some of the renters have been good, some have been bad. We can't really tell about the current - there's a zillion kids always over and we aren't sure which live there and which don't.

Tonight I'm sitting in the family room watching TV and adding more fabulous items to my Kaboodle list and I hear teenagers. Ugh, teenagers. I wouldn't mind if they were walking up the street and making a little noise - but they stop, in front of our house, making noise. They really weren't being that loud and I tried to give them the benefit of the doubt. I waited, they talked, some yelled. I looked out the blinds so they would notice, they talked, about me looking out the blinds. I turned on the lights, they talked, about me turning on the lights, they yelled.

Finally I opened the door "Hey guys, I've got a baby trying to sleep, move along." That wasn't too crabby, was it? I though I handled it well - yet I saw nasty looks on faces as they walked into the house next door, the rental. I didn't even know they had teenagers living there!

So we'll see how many eggs are smashed on our cars when we get up in the morning . . .