Friday, 23 November 2012

I Hate My Neighbours

I dislike my neighbours. I really do and let me explain why. We live in a downstairs flat (apartment if you're American. By the way hello to all my American readers). The flat is actually quite big because of the room sizes and ceiling heights. It's a really nice place and we love that it is over 100 years old with lots of quirky features.

About six months ago three lads moved into the flat upstairs. To say they are heavy footed is an understatement but this isn't my problem with them. Last night was the second night in a row that the wee man has slept through after a week or so of broken nights. Last night was also the night the lads upstairs decided to have a party. They were still going at 04:28 when they woke me and The Chancellor up. This isn't the first time they've had a party and last time even came round the next morning to apologise. I told them that if it happens again I can't save them from my wife when she comes round to kick them in the balls. They looked genuinely scared.

The area we live in is a family area away from the student areas of the city which is one reason why we chose to live here. So we really don't appreciate living below three students. For a time they had a treadmill and when they used to do their exercise the pictures on our walls used to shake and I thought for a while that they would fall through the ceiling. An hour of thudding that sounds like we're being bombed sent me slightly deranged.

Surprisingly the wee man doesn't seem to care about the noise and luckily hasn't woken up once with their continual noise. It just really annoys me and The Chancellor and it wakes us up. I have vowed that if they wake the wee man up I will go round drag them from their home and make them spend a night with a crying baby just to see what it's like. Once they spend a night with a crying baby they will never make a noise again.


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