In the continuing saga that is apartment life in South San Jose, we are surrounded by neighbors who all have interesting stories, sometimes too interesting.
We have always tried to be friendly with our neighbors, in the spirit of you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. But this can go too far.
Our neighborhood is predominantly hispanic. Households of hard workers, lots of kids, and relatively constant turnover (parts of families leave, to be replaced with other relatives). This leads to the appearance of new kids and adults pretty frequently. I say hello (or hola as the case may warrant).
The other day, a new kid was out in the courtyard, so Barbara asked this cute kid if she was new. The answer…
We just moved here. My daddy pushed my mommy into some clothes hangars, and hurt her, so we can't live with him anymore.
Not to make light of domestic violence, and the wide web of chaos it invokes, but it is sad that to hear it come from a child of no more than 6 years old.
Sometimes, the less you know, the better off you are.
