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I think we are on the neighbor’s s#!t list, because I cannot seem to get Pierce to stop throwing stuff over the fence. The only way we could live closer to each other is if we put our house on top of theirs, so naturally, there have been issues with toys going over the fence since Mikey came along 6 years ago, but eventually we scared him into not throwing things willy-nilly. Pierce is another story, though…The more you tell him no, the more fun it is for him to keep doing whatever he shouldn’t be doing. I wonder who his cellmate is going to be?
A couple of months ago, I caught the boys throwing matchbox cars in our back yard, on the roof (because they would drive back down), and over the fence (that was Pierce). I immediately texted my neighbor to tell her what he was doing and if anything was broken to please let me know. I never heard anything until one day when she was cleaning up her back yard and finding the cars. She told me they would be replacing their windows very soon, and that she was concerned about her investment. I couldn’t imagine why…
Last month they installed high-end, turtle tinted, energy-efficient windows over a weekend. It wasn’t long before she met me at my front door with a rubber ball, and several other things that could possibly do damage. I showed Pierce the toys, and then immediately threw most of them away while explaining that if I caught him throwing anything in the backyard, it would go in the trash.
Then last week I got home to a phone call from my neighbor telling me that two of my outdoor pillows, a couple of rocks, and a rubber snake found their way into her backyard. Oh, and there are also five Tansformers on your roof! Such mysteries…I would like to know who the A-hole was that came in my yard and threw my stuff over the fence. Wait…if memory serves–I know a guy…
So have you ever heard what you resist persists—well my neighbor’s resistance to the idea of broken windows paid off! Make a note of Florence Scovel Shinn’s book “Your Word is Your Wand,” as I am regularly experiencing its increasing credibility.

Last Saturday morning we got a phone call with caller I.D. displaying my neighbor’s name. “Crap! Here! You answer, I can’t deal with this.” I said to Greg. Then, while I heard him quickly hang up and head out into the back yard, I went back to the suddenly blissful drudgery of folding laundry and pretending what I don’t know won’t hurt me. However, my anxious curiosity took over and after sufficient time, I walked out into the back yard to find out what they were discussing.
Apparently the new window was cracked. It probably happened on the day the pillows, rubber snake, and ROCKS were tossed over! I guess the argon between panes in a double paned window puts enough pressure to make a small crack into quite a large one.
Naturally, I apologized profusely and said I would pay to fix it or replace it. They were pleasant enough, but I heard several reminders during our brief conversations in the succeeding days that they were cool about it, but they may not be cool about it if it happened again. What’s the problem? I’m the one paying to replace it? I’m thinking probably I’m the one whose also not going to be cool about another broken window!
Now Pierce doesn’t get to go out in the backyard without Greg or me since we can’t trust him, which really stinks for all of us! Like my dear friend once said: “I feel like I need to have a second child because, let’s face it, do we (as parents) really want to be our child’s playmate?” Hilarious insight! But I have news for her—the older child isn’t exactly a bodyguard, disciplinarian, or either the conveyor or enforcer of upstanding behavior.

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