Can you imagine?

Let's imagine that you're neighbor Ed. You decide to stop by our place this evening to see if we'd like some extra wood to burn in our stove. You knock once and are greeted by a charming hostess wearing the latest fashion. The warm air inside smells of freshly baked cookies and clean laundry. As you look around the home, you are amazed at the good housekeeping of the wife. Everything is so spic and span! You think you might ask her to give your own wife a few pointers. Soon, two adorable children bounce out to greet you, rosy-cheeked and polite. What good parents your neighbors are. The wife calls to her husband, "Oh hoooonnnneeeeyyy, Neighbor Ed is here to see you!" He greets you with a firm handshake and freshly-pressed clothes. You greet him in return and.......................

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HOO HOO HOO HO HO HOO HA HA HO HO HO HA! HO. HA.

Sorry, Neighbor Ed. You went to the wrong house! This is how the story really goes:

You knock on the door. You knock again. You assume that whoever's inside can't hear you over the din going on in there. You knock as loud as you can. Bounding down the stairs to greet you is a disheveled almost-4-yr-old wearing too-tight leggings and a flashy necklace. That's all. She opens the door a crack and then yanks as hard as she can to get it open. There's something in the way of the door. "Hi, Neighbor Ed!" she says, "we're just makin' a band....DAAAAAADDDDYYY! Neighbor Ed is here!" While you wait for your neighbor to make his appearance, you take a look at your surroundings. It's a little difficult to see as visibility is limited. There seems to be a cloud of smoke smelling vaguely of burnt eggs. It almost makes your eyes water, but you try to see anyway. Surrounding your feet are all manner of things including (but not limited to) a baby doll, her blankie, 47 pairs of shoes, 15 coats, a random conglomeration of hats, mittens, and dirty socks, leaves, chunks of grilled cheese sandwich and teddy grahams, a toy french fry, and a gourd. Underneath it all you detect a thick coat of dirt adorning the stylish rug. You see why the door was difficult to open. You think you might tell your wife to come down here to give the Mrs a few pointers. Down comes the Mr. wearing oh-so-trendy blue flannel pants pulled up over his holey gray t-shirt. He's carrying his only son, dressed head-to-toe in flashy pink. Amidst the stench, the fake french fries, and the more-hyperactive-than-"boucy" children, you carry on a brief conversation about the wood you brought. You suggest the Mr come with you to show you where to put the wood just so you can escape the madness. It works.

Good to see you, neighbor Ed! Please, come again any time!