Around 9:30 a.m., the Banging Brood (who should all be in school at that time of day and not at home thumping on the walls) were, well, banging and thumping on the walls. And I think I've figured out why.
It's not "play time" as the mother called it. It's retaliation for any sounds I make. How do I know this? Well today, I was minding my own business, trying to pack stuff. Some stuff I'm downsizing and other stuff I'm packing for my eventual move.
I was in the bedroom and living room. And the little banger followed me to bang on their bedroom and living room wall, which I share in common with them.
Fortunately for me, the event happened when the apartment manager could be contacted. So I told her what had transpired and she did make the little demons next door knock it off. Aside from some walking upstairs, it's been pleasantly quiet.
And I'm glad it was dealt with, because I really don't want to call the useless donut patrol, aka FBPD. I'm too tired after walking nearly 5 miles in the blazing hot afternoon sun. My nerves are raw enough, I've had anxiety spells like you wouldn't believe, and I really don't need any nonsense from the next door brat pack.
