Well, a few weeks ago, we received some sad news.

The cool neighbors are moving. 

We were so distraught with the thought of no longer seeing their precious children playing golf out on the front lawn.  No one wearing fedoras.  No matching sweater vests.  No slouchy beanies.  No space ship golf cart cruising the street.  No driving moccasins without socks.  No cardigans and skinny jeans.  No hair gel in gently tousled hair.   

And no one to get dressed up for when we go to the mailbox. 

No, the cool neighbors are moving to Atlanta for a promotion with his company......or, at least, that's what they're telling us.  Could have more to do with the unsightly views of their style-less neighbors, Fred and Ethel, across the street.  Maybe they couldn't stand to see Davis in one more blood donor tee from the 90's while he worked in the yard in his white socks.  Maybe it was the way I'd water my ferns without a bra first thing in the mornings.  Maybe it was the toilet paper from our trees that invariably blew over to their house every homecoming week.  Maybe it was the ill-timed sofa incident that occurred while they were teeing off.  Maybe it was when I purged the house that time and a dog got into our overflowing garbage can and littered wrappers of all descriptions across their yard.  Maybe it was our garage sale during their birthday party that was the straw that broke the camel's back.  I guess we'll never really know.

Regardless, Davis and I will be left with no fashion guidance.  No more runway show viewings from our front porch.  No Baby Gap models running through the grass.  No looking across the street to browse the "New Arrivals" at Banana Republic.  No one to model the fashions that we'll catch up to in about 6 years. 

I'm worried that without that accountability, Davis will be in Sansabelt slacks and suede Hush Puppies before you know it and watering the ferns braless may just turn into more of an all day thing for me.   

Yes, it's a sad day. 

I've just been peering out the windows as the real estate agent brings prospective buyers by to look.  Bless the new neighbors' hearts......whoever they may be.  We'll always compare them to the cool neighbors.  "The cool neighbors would've never worn that together"......"The cool neighbors would not like what they've done to their putting green"....."The cool neighbors' kids were always color coordinated when they played outside".     

I'm sure, whoever they are, they won't be near as suave or as cutting edge......unless, of course, Brad and Angelina buy the house.

I think we've loved them so much because they remind us of our younger family....I mean, minus the hair gel and slouchy beanies.  They're at a stage that we have passed.  A stage that we miss.  Yeah, we see them struggling with the car seats, settling toddler disputes, making diaper runs to the store, and calling Blair when they need a babysitter.  But, somehow, we may be a little envious.  We're on the other side of all of that.....the side where we're not needed as much.  We've seen how quickly it's all over and we want them to enjoy it while they can.  This move will help them do that and, for that, we are so happy for them.   

We're blessed with a lot of good neighbors.  It's a real treasure to live near people who are neighbors in the truest sense.  Many a delicious treat and kind gesture have come from their home to ours.  They are a precious, thoughtful, young family and we'll miss their sweet faces and friendly presence in our neighborhood. 

They are the Carmichaels.   They are good people.  They are great parents.  They are smart and talented and they are going places.

They are the cool neighbors.

And they will be missed.


With much love,

Ethel and Fred