Six months or so ago, the people next door moved out and rented their house to... a family? A bunch of friends? I don't know, we can't really figure it out. We do know that the one child is handicapped so they installed a ramp up to the front door. Also, they drive one of those huge
I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've come home to find limbs from our pear tree torn off and in the middle of the road. Or busted partially off and hanging from the tree. Corresponding scratches on the neighbor's van? Oh, you know there are.
This morning, I backed out of my driveway, carefully looking both left and right behind me so I don't back over any runners, small children, or rogue dogs. And as I looked left, I saw their mailbox, clearly backed into, twisted and smashed and barely hanging on to the post where it normally lives. All of which is even more attention-grabbing when I tell you that for some reason they painted the mailbox post a most brilliant lime yellow-green awhile back.
Clearly someone over there needs to learn how to drive that thing.