To my great horror, three small children seem to have moved into my neighbourhood. Not only into my neighbourhood but into one of the apartment blocks where I live.
Last weekend as I was reading a book (one of the very few things in life that I really enjoy; one of my too few means of escape from this shitty world), I was assaulted by the ridiculously high pitched voices of small children playing hide-and-seek.
These weren't just ordinary little kids - there were two girls and a boy, the boy's voice was unlike any other I had ever heard in my life. He was SUPER loud, like he had a megaphone lodged in his throat. And the only way I can put it, is that he sounded like a tiny version of a very flamboyant, mincing homosexual. Did I mention how loud he was? Well, brother was he loud. That shrieking, faggoty little voice caused me intense discomfort, let me tell you.
He was playing with what I guessed to be his sister and his sister's friend. You could tell that one of the girls was his sister because she was just as loud, but not faggoty sounding. The other girl I could barely hear.
So it was this little brother-sister duo, come to make my life a misery, and my weekend a very traumatic, disappointing one.
Anyway, I figured that they must have come for the day or something. They would leave soon, and peace and sanity would be restored. How wrong I was! The next day they were there again! This miniature, homosexual foghorn and his sister. It was beyond belief.
All week they are there. Every time I get home I'm a trembling, nervous wreck, because I know I'm going to hear those voices any minute. As if work isn't demanding and nerve-shredding enough - now the sanctuary of my tiny apartment has been taken from me.
Well, we are in the middle of school holidays at the moment, so I can only hope they will go when the holidays are over. If that doesn't happen, and they stay, I fear for my sanity.
As if I'm not just barely managing to hold onto that as it is.
