A Letter Of Apology

Dear Neighbours,

I’m sorry. My kids accidentally threw a Frisbee over the fence while playing in our yard.

But that happens, right?

I remember when I was a kid, kicking a ball around the backyard. I spent more time running through gardens into the neighbours yards to collect the ball than kicking it, which probably goes a long way to explaining why I was better at cross country running than football.

Unfortunately, though, you weren’t home and I banned my kids from racing around into your yard to retrieve it. Not that it would have helped this time because the Frisbee had landed on your roof.

“How are we going to reach it?” I asked my wife, looking up and scratching my head. I briefly entertained the idea of lobbing a child into the air, but I knew Tracey would balk at that.

“I’d suggest a ladder,” she told me, proving once again she has the superior understanding of tools in our house.

Not that we’ve done that yet. You weren’t home and I somehow felt that if you’d arrived as I was standing down the side of your house, by a window, on a ladder, you might get the wrong idea and I might not get the chance to mutter the word ‘Frisbee’ before you explained your displeasure.

So we’ve left it there. For now. Just wanted you to know.

The big difficulty was explaining to the kids why they couldn’t have their Frisbee back. I mean, they could see the dang thing from our yard. It was just there.

“It’s time you kids come back inside,” I told my kids a little later when Miss7 came into the house.

“Can we stay down the back just a bit longer?” Miss7 asked us. “We’re still trying to get the Frisbee off the roof.”

“I told you guys to stay in our yard!” I snapped.

“We are,” insisted Miss7.

Which is how I know for absolute certain you guys weren’t home.

“Then how are you trying to get it down?” I asked.

“We’re throwing stones at it,” said Miss7.

Needless to say, we’re very, very sorry. You can keep the Frisbee as recompense.

Regards, apologies and puppy dog faces,

Bruce & Tracey

(PS The shed is up – we owe you a BBQ 🙂 )

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