For those that asked if it was really Tom who wrote the post, I have a few things to say to you:
1) Why would I lie about that?
2) If it was me, pretending to be Tom, the section about how great I was, would have been much, much longer and more detailed.
3) If there are any lingering doubts about the identity of the last post's author, I would encourage you to re-read the portion (approximately 50% of his post) where Tom describes his disgusting lunch with obvious romantic feelings. If you think I am capable of speaking fondly, let alone romantically, about a slice of American Cheese then you are dead to me.
So, it really was him and I am thankful that you all got a little taste of who he is, before he becomes incapacitated from heart disease and other cheesesteak-related health problems. Pray for him, please and thank you.
So, Day 22.
We have tried to keep the kids involved in our #AdamsActs, and it is always awesome to hear their suggestions for different acts of kindness we could do. My four year old, London, has notoriously horrible ideas that almost always have to do with chocolate, and somehow she gets the chocolate in the end. Harper's are usually some over the top plan (like to buy a new house/car) and always for Jim, the neighbor who had back surgery. You may recall, during our ALS Ice Bucket Challenge, he challenged Jim.
He did have his first idea that was doable, and not Jim-centric. He came home with a letter written for our neighbors on the other side of us. It was adorable, and I will translate it below.
Hello.
Hello Neighbors, Hope you had a great day! Just wanted to say you're nice and I love when you play football with me. (heart) Harper Next Door
This goes for both of you.
They went out and bought Harper an age-appropriate thank you card, and a gift card to get pizza and wings during the next Bills game. Harper practically wept with joy. It was so cool for the kids to see (in such a ridiculously instantaneous way) that when you sew kindness, you reap kindness. I wish that I could say that they have already learned that lesson, because I am so sweet and pleasant and I always have the good of others right on the forefront of my mind. But, I would be lying. The truth is, I am the worst.
I love my neighbors, all of them, I really do. But before this current set, we had a pretty rough run of neighbors. One potty-mouthed neighbor got so drunk that she peeled out of her driveway, she actually drove her car into her own house, obliterating her new wrap-around porch... if she had gone in the other direction, she would have obliterated me, Marlie and three of her little friends who were all sleeping in a tent in our back yard for Marlie's campout/birthday party. I had a hard time getting close to that one. Still, I acted kindly and I reached out, which you can read about here, but honestly, instead of loving my neighbor, what I really wanted to do, was report her.
I had neighbors that, during a particularly low point, I remember wanting to hit with a shovel, I can't remember why, but I know for a fact that it was, in no way, an overreaction. And some of you may remember this post when my elderly neighbor made out with me a little about my Act of Kindness two years ago.
So, you can see that I have tried, that I am still trying. But, the reality is that I love the neighbors I know, and I am scared to get to know the neighbors I don't know. Maybe it's because we all live so close, but I am always cautious to get enmeshed with new neighbors. So, I am embarrassed to say that Harper did this on his own. Not because of my shining example of kindness... if he was following my example, he'd be pacing around the perimeter with a shovel. He just loves people, and he loves football, and he loves to throw the football with the neighbor. I love people and I also love keeping a polite distance when I can because otherwise, it just gets messy.
And as much as I wish I had reminded my children that we are to love our neighbors, even when it gets messy, even if you get enmeshed, even when you get a little frenched by the elderly... in the end, it was my children who reminded me.
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