Condo Lease-uh

When The Husband was in college The In-Laws bought a condo in town as an investment. The Husband lived there with roommates, and everyone studied very hard and never slacked off and never ever walked straight into parking meters even though they were completely sober. We have some great, carefree memories of that condo.

But alas, we graduated mumble years ago, and it's time to let it go. The In-Laws have decided to sell the condo, so The Husband had to go clean out some of the junk that he'd been storing over there. You know, the stuff that didn't make the cut when we got married, bought a house, and merged our things as grown ups. Like old pots and pans we didn't need once we got fancy wedding presents. Or the 6 foot wide Lord of the Rings poster with custom frame. 

The condo is in an area of town that has gone downhill since we left. It's too bad, too, because the actual space is really pretty great. We'd even considered moving back over there temporarily if this house rents before we buy another (that's sort of not happening now anyway). So on Saturday we went to do inventory and see what needed to be purged. 

When we pulled up, the person on the floor above us stuck his head out of the split screen in his porch to look at us. He yelled "Are we getting new neighbors?!" The Husband replied that no, he was not getting new neighbors and we were just cleaning some stuff out. "Did somebody move out on you real quick?" his floating head asked. The Husband very kindly told him no, he was cleaning his own stuff out that he'd left behind. The floating head responded with "If you have stuff you're getting rid of or hauling off, I'll take it. I'll take it all." 

We thanked him and went inside. We started sorting, reminiscing, and tossing out stuff and The Boy starting getting into everything. One of his particular favorites was an Austin Powers Mini Me figurine. Did I mention The Boy had on too big pants with a too small shirt and his galoshes? 

The Husband's Mini Me, playing with The Husband's Mini Me

He also loved the Wild Rumpus of unsupervised kids running through the parking lot and screaming. He went to the sliding glass door and watched them with envy, saying "Bikkids! Bikkids!"(Big kids). They ran and played and teased and shot each other with nerf guns in elaborate, organized heists. 

We were clearing some stuff off the porch and I had The Boy in my arms when a dog appeared on the porch without hesitation. The dog was attached to a leash, which was attached to a gaggle of children that burst on the scene with an air of confidence and comfort about them. I'll assume the dog invited them. Since I did not know this dog, I spoke to him but held my toddler away from him. I'd hate to get all Grizzly on a stranger's dog for biting my child. All the children spoke at once. 

"Y'all moving in here? We gon get neighbors!"

"What's that baby's name?" 

"This our dog. His name Bolt." (I continued to hold The Boy on my hip away from Bolt). 

"Is that baby afraida dogs uhsumpthin?"

I barely had a chance to answer when said gaggle of children burst through the open glass doors into the condo. They continued talking without waiting for responses for their previous questions. They pointed at various things inside. 

"Who toys are those?"

"Ooooh! Who iphone?"

"Is that your iphone? Somebody callin you!!"

The Husband thanked them for their administrative service and told him we'd get the phone. They were gone as soon as they came in, Bolt leading them to more adventures with unsuspecting adults. As we continued to pack stuff up and started loading it in the car I watched the gaggle play in the parking lot. Two boys teased a girl, chasing her with something (or nothing) in their cupped hands. They chanted in a sing song voice reserved for playground yah yah "We got your eggie. We got your baby. We got your eggie." She stomped silently in front of her pursuers, evidently trying not to run or cry. The Boy, dirty and in ill fitting clothes, started yelling "Eggie. Eggie." I took him back inside before he attempted anymore of the "bikkid" antics. The remainder of the gaggle started a brigade in and out of the nearby ground floor condo, streaming out blankets, pillows, and anything that wasn't strapped down in a game called "we moving." They paraded these items like a line of ants into the middle of the parking lot where they set up their new house. The Boy shouted from the glass door "Bikkids! Bikkids!"

We soon packed up and got the heck out of dodge. With neighbors popping through screens to ask for trash and children and dogs arriving unannounced, we decided that living at the condo might've been better in theory. We went home, changed clothes, and went to the new Mexican restaurant in town (Athens folks, Los Coyotes was delish). Then we decided to stop at the new gas station to check out their self serve yogurt and fixins. 

I'm not convinced that lady had on anything under her trench coat.  Yes, that's a lady. 

 

When we were at the gas station there were some chaotic kids eating yogurt samples over and over without paying for any yogurt. They'd fill the tiny paper sample cups til they overflowed, suck that down with no spoon, throw the cup away and then go back for more. A woman I assumed to be their mom sat nearby, watching. When one of the girls turned around, guess who I recognized her to be? Yep, one of the Wild Rumpus kids from Bolt's Great Adventures! And I bet we haven't seen the last of these kids, either.