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The saga continues. But this time, it is not with the same neighbour and you will be pleased to know that this story doesn’t involve any bottoms (See last post…). I am starting to understand why some people are tempted to live on a desert island. Let me tell you what happened.
I love being surrounded by children. As I grew up pretty isolated, I have always promised myself that my daughters would be able to have play dates and see their friends.

This means that we had a few children with us over the week end. They were happily running in the street (it is a small, secure street). I was watching over them, happy that they were having fun, when another new neighbour came to me. She didn’t say hello. She didn’t introduce herself. She just explained to me that her son’s girlfriend was staying with them and, should we want a babysitter, she could help with the kids. She was about to go back to her house when I dared to say (silly old me):
“- By the way, I am Muriel”
She looked surprised and ended up muttering “-Sheryl”. And off she went.
The whole conversation lasted less than two minutes.
So, let me spell out what I really, really think: how dare she? She wasn’t interested in us, she didn’t even ask for the name and ages of the children. She just wanted to make a few bucks.
I felt older and none the wiser…So tell me: am I just becoming a bitter old lady?

Muriel – A French Yummy Mummy In London