There is a row of mailboxes affixed to the side of our house. Somebody, I don’t know who, takes his1 weekly ad circulars out of his respective mailbox every Tuesday and leaves them atop a ledge on our (inoperable) chimney.2 Then it gets windy, and they blow around the yard, and I go out and pick them up. Rinse, repeat.

I am on the brink of taping up a note. I am contemplating just how passive-aggressive I should be. Something like…

“To whom it may concern:
Just so you know, DON’T LEAVE YOUR ADS HERE! Please take them to the recycle bin. Your mother doesn’t live here, CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELF!!!
I am not saying anything bad will happen, but I am sick and tired of being the only conscientious one here.Β  πŸ™‚Β  πŸ™‚Β  πŸ™‚Β  πŸ™‚
β€” Your Friendly Neighbor”

Yeah? Think that’ll do the trick?

UPDATE: This hypothetical letter reminds me of nothing so much as the phrase: “Don’t you passive-aggressive-smiley-face-ME, woman.”


1 It has to be a boy. All of our neighbors are boys.

2 Inoperable since a small 1939 fire. I know this, because I looked it up in the city records online.

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