The baby next door

If the baby next door was three months old when I moved here in June, it’s possible he was born in April and is a full-on, bull-headed Taurus.

I hear him cry when I’m in the living room, and I think his name is Owen.  His dad is a friendly guy.  He has the big, sensitive eyes of a new father.  Owen’s mom is a beautiful ice princess.

Now I’ve had my astrological chart done a few times.  I’m an Aries with lots of Mars and Scorpio – cardinal fire, but WITHOUT the red hair or REACTIVE HOT TEMPER.   An astrologer offered an interpretation of my dislike of some heavily Taurus people.  She said that as earth signs, some Taureans can dampen the buoyant enthusiasm that fire signs express.  She explained it this way: “Earth puts out fire.”

I’ve known lovely, enthusiastic Taurus people but I’ve also been around fistfuls of dirty earth out to smother my sizzle.

Owen, listen to me.  

If that describes you in any way then do me a favor and get off my ass.  You’re only nine months old; I say this preemptively.  For the moment we’re separated by thin walls, mashed banana and the apple juice upon your chin.

But I’m not moving out anytime soon.  I’ll witness your little personality develop and I don’t want any shit from you. 

Oh.  Were you actually five months old when I moved in in June?  Ha-ha, never mind.

UPDATE: This week, somewhere around January 16th or so, the front door of Owen’s apartment sported a balloon reading “Happy 1st Birthday!”  Capricorn.  I knew it! Capricorns like protocol to be honored, so mind your pleases and thank yous por favor.

UPDATE PART DEUX: My neighbors & their progeny are lovely people who probably wonder why the single lady next door (moi) yells at her apartment sometimes. That’s a complicated answer; it doesn’t concern you. Enjoy!

4 thoughts on “The baby next door

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