She is delusional, paranoid and has a nasty disposition. She calls the police several times a week, throwing a variety of accusations against everybody in the neighborhood. Law enforcement is on our small street so often that we are probably the safest neighborhood in the state of Virginia!
Yesterday I was not feeling well. Robby was thrilled to have access to the much coveted glitter box and I was content resting on the couch. Armed with a mug of hot tea and a box of tissues with lotion, I was ready to relax. Unfortunately my convalescence was interrupted on three separate police visits.
At 8 in the morning, three patrol cars pulled into my driveway. Although I suspected that their visit was a result of "the old lady," my anxiety always rises when the police arrive at my door. Trembling, I answered the door.
It turns out that my suspicions were correct. In a formal tone, the Officers asked to speak with my son. I invited them inside and called for Robby.
After protests about having to turn off The Backyardigans and a promise of cookie dough after came into the living room, he emerged. The look on their faces, when they saw my four year old, covered in glitter and still in his sleeper pajamas, standing before them was priceless.
Apparently Robby was accused of breaking into her house and trying to assault her. While the police suspected that the accusation was unfounded, they were obliged to investigate. This is the third time Robby has had the cops called on him, and he is only four!
The police returned in the afternoon after she called and accused me of beating Robby in the middle of the street. Again, the officer apologized for his visit. I admit to being angry at this horrific accusation.
The third visit came right before dinner. A police officer stopped by, simply to introduce himself to the neighbors since he was new to this territory. Even the police are anticipating her accusations. Robby gave him a picture of a glitter smile face, a hug and told him the officer that he would see him tomorrow.
Robby took the frequent interruptions as an opportunity to expand his artistic horizons. In addition to having glitter all over my table, he mixed the colorful mess makers with glue and "painted" the floor- with his hand. My day of respite was spent dealing with the police and cleaning up my sparkle-laden little mischief maker.
Despite the frequent visits from uniformed officers, I feel badly for the lady. I have rarely seen her children although I know that they live in the area. It goes against my instincts not to reach out to her, but I have been cautioned by the officers to avoid interacting with her.I will continue to be polite when we see her outside, but I won't engage her in conversation. We still still shovel out her driveway when there is snow--I wouldn't be able to rest if her house was inaccessible should she need an ambulance. In reality, the shoveling will probably only serve to make it easier for the police to drive to the door to take her complaint against me. I suppose no good deed goes unpunished.
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