When I moved into a house last year, I was really excited about doing neighborly things. Chatting over the fence, going to neighborhood picnics, borrowing cups of sugar.
Apparently, I thought I had bought a house in the 1950s.
In reality, there's very little interaction between our neighbors and us. The kids all play outside together, but we don't have kids. So the only time we ever really notice them is when they're leaving candy wrappers in our mailbox or flicking cigarette butts into our backyard so their parents don't know they were smoking.
So when my doorbell rang the other day, I didn't bother answering. Most of the time when my doorbell rings, it's either a kid wanting to sell me something for a fundraiser or someone wanting to talk to me about Jesus. I didn't really feel like spending money or talking about Jesus on this particular day. And I don't have a good vantage point anywhere in the house for seeing who is at the door, Mr. Rogers-style. So I waited till the person left, then watched out the window.
It was my next-door neighbor, and she had a giant zucchini in her hand. It figures that the first time I don't answer the door, it's someone I actually don't mind seeing, with a present for me. I couldn't exactly go running after her though. What was I supposed to say? Sorry, I thought you were going to try to save my soul?
Well, today, I came home from work, and there was the giant zucchini, sitting on my kitchen counter. Apparently, when my husband had come home, the next-door neighbor (the husband this time) had come out and offered him the zucchini. Wisely, he didn't say, "oh yeah, your wife brought that over the other day, but my wife was afraid she was a Jehovah's witness, so she didn't answer the door."
Truthfully, I have no idea what I'm going to do with the thing. It's huge. I could make six loaves of zucchini bread, a quiche and some grilled zucchini and still have some left over. But I'm still pretty excited to have been the recipient of such a neighborly gesture.
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