Today I pulled into the driveway about 2:55. I noticed that the oldest boy who lives next door (about 10?) was trying to get into his garage using the code panel. Then he seemed to give up, walked up the stairs, and knocked on the door. He was wearing short sleeves over a thermal shirt and athletic gear, carrying his jacket on the coldest day yet this winter. I asked if he was locked out and wanted me to call his mom. He said yes. So I did, invited him into the warm (63*) house (Patrick keeps it cold while we are gone), and waited about five minutes before his mom showed up, a little panicked because that was not the plan for the day.
About a week ago, our across the street neighbors brought over a huge bucket of dulpos for the boys. These are the same folks who supplied Seamus with his bed. Our friends were over, and they said, “That girl is ready to be a mother’s helper and play with the boys while you do work.” She’s 8, but I think they’re right.
This is how we build community. I’m not a great neighbor. I leave towels on the front porch with the stroller. I do not bring cookies/candy to the neighbors at holidays. Our grass is frequently unmowed and leaves unraked, but we can all watch out for each other a little.
UPDATE: The neighbors’ battery was out on the opener. They brought us four delicious cupcakes yesterday to say thanks.