Pitter in morning, Patter in the Evening

As Chris and I left this morning around 7 a.m., our downstairs neighbor crawled out of bed to tell us we're noisy. "You're up at 5. You're up at midnight," he said. He mentioned he could hear everything as the floors are not sound protected. "I'm sorry," I replied. "We'll do our best." Which is exactly what we'll do - try. We don't walk in the house with shoes so there's not much else we can eliminate to keep the noise down. Inside I was thinking, "That's what you get for not living on the top floor."

We always try to avoid living under someone as the noise drives me crazy (so I can sympathize). And if those of you can remember Paris, well, let's just say that's one aspect I don't miss (as well as the fishy hallway). Those kids upstairs used to drive me bonkers. I'd pound on the ceiling with a broomstick when they'd have a houseful running around while I was trying to watch Sex and the City at 11 p.m. But then, it's not even comparable as we don't bop around the house at midnight as they did upstairs in Paris. So I felt as though my rage was warranted. Here, not so much. Our neighbor is lucky we don't have kids because Calvin would most likely be quite energetic.