Fun Monday - the neighborhood version

The white picket fence seemed apropos for this week's assignment - your worst neighbor per Beyond My Slab.

Here goes: Tell us about your all-time worst Neighbors from Hell. You know, the family of Irish clog dancers who once lived in the flat/apartment above you? Mrs. Nextdoor and her banshee-like multiple orgasms? Mr. and Mrs. Hard-of-Hearing with their television on full blast? The guys across the street who set off 4th of July fireworks starting in March and didn't stop until the first real snowfall?

If I did not live in a small town, I could tell you about our neighbor of 10 years who siphoned our gas, burglarized our house, stole our guns (and my First Communion prayer book and high school ring) and shot our dog. But I do live in a small town so I will share another neighbor from hell story.

When I was 18, I got married. When I was 19, I had my first daughter and my husband and I had the usual discussions re; naming said child. He wanted to name her Stephanie (guess whose name was Steven?) and I refused to because that was his girlfriend-before-me's name. When I was 20, my husband was killed in a car accident and the baby (whose name was NOT Stephanie) and I had to move. I got my very first on my own apartment. Any guess who lived in the apartment next door?

Yep, Stephanie.