What I like about our neighbours is… well, nothing. They’re shitboxes of the highest order. But one of the things that amuses me greatly is their nocturnal nature.
You don’t really hear from them during the day – apart from the loud, unnecessary and incredibly shit music that blares out on and off during the afternoons – but come early evening they tend to surface and start playing football or whatever, especially if it’s raining. Because obviously.
And then they just run around their house. Constantly. Running backwards and forwards. Up and down the stairs. Always running.
The best bit of the running is that we can’t work it out. There’s not enough space in a our houses to run that much. Especially bearing in mind that the houses are only two bedrooms, and there’s a minimum of two children – often many more, Lockdown be damned – and at least one adult in there. So there must be enough furniture to accommodate that. There just can’t be enough space for a run.
Sometimes I like to think that they’re running on the spot to build up speed, like a cartoon character, before they burst forth.
Whatever the reason, they only really like to run after dark.
And scream, as well. They scream a lot. While running.
But they don’t do any of this in daylight hours. You don’t hear them going up or down stairs during the day. Just in the evenings, where they have put on really heavy boots and make sure each foot is planted firmly before the next is placed.
Sometimes they run around until the early hours of the morning. You know, like all well-parented children would do.
I guess that explains why they don’t surface until late afternoon…