My neighbour has been playing the same song for THREE DAYS. No other song. Just ONE.
Once you’ve finished with the kids, could you pay her a visit?
If there is one thing I abhor in children it’s screeching. For. No. Reason. I have two girls and they know that they had darned well better have a good reason for screaming and screeching in our yard, like a mountain lion, bear or other carnivorous beast imminently coming to eat them. We’ve even quit having sleepovers and such because it seems that other parents think that screaming and screeching are cute traits. Meh.
And we also have the delightful neighbors who allow their children (little beasts) to stay up til midnight year round and run around screaming in their yard. The only thing saving my sanity at this point is the fact that it’s warm enough now that either the windows are closed and AC is on or the windows are open and the fans are on–oh and the various and sundry music that is in the stereo is played at high volume otherwise! 
Betime for children (or for heaven’s sake, at least quiet time) should be 9 p.m. at the very latest. IMHO.
And screaming/screeching should never be allowed unless the children are in imminent danger of death or abduction.
Oh thank God! I thought I was just a cranky old bitch at 42.
I do not understand the damn screeching thing either. My neighbor has wee ones who love to stand near our back fence and screech. It is all I can do to restrain myself from yelling STFU.
By the way, I do have children. As little ones, they were taught that screeching, unless in mortal danger or in severe pain, was a huge no-no. Fortunately, they listened. Now, they can’t stand screeching kids either. Both swear they’ll never have kids. They are 13 and 16 now.
I do not remember doing all that screeching crap as a kid either.
I was taught that, too! Didn’t these kids ever hear the story of the Boy Who Cried Wolf? Yeesh.
[Rodney Dangerfield] Now I know why tigers eat their young![/RD]
I’m sure we all screamed too; it’s a natural function of being a kid, I think–or at least a girl. I don’t know why. It’s just that parents are supposed to be squishing that particular trait, and many don’t. I can’t stand screaming myself, and have made it clear that screaming is only for true emergencies, like losing a limb, but I still have to remind them sometimes.
Parents have an uncanny ability to filter out their own offsprings’ caterwauling. The better parents can filter out the caterwauling, yet instantly respond to a true cry for assistance. Mind you, while a parent can filter out their own children’s noise, they are affecting by the screaming and crying by others’ kids.
I’d like to add my vote for the toaster, or for an old hair dryer. Or, just to be sure, both of them.
Well then as a fellow Mancunian would you mind telling me does she live in the Altrincham area.
If so I could help you out
My father somehow convinced the neighborhood children that screaming was impossible on our side of the street. As a result, it wasn’t until I lived in a girl’s dorm in college that I realized just how often young women scream and shriek. I don’t think I’ve ever screamed in my life, although I have played Marco Polo as an adult as well as as a kid.
Some women don’t seem to grow out of it, though. Many years ago, I was relaxing after a shower when I heard blood-curdling screams coming from nearby. I called the police, threw some clothes on, and ran to see what I could do, all the while thinking that going up against an axe-murderer in shorts and a t-shirt wasn’t going to be the smartest thing I’d done. It turns out the reason the young woman was screaming as if her life was in danger had broken up was because she’d broken up with her boyfriend or vice versa. It could have been worse. A family who lived nearby also came to try to help. They’d been watching a horror movie when they heard the screams.
betenoir, when you finish with the kids, a friend of mine would like to speak to you about a Jack Russell terrier who lives above him. Do you make house calls?
You got that right. Tomorrow I’m going to get my hair cut at a salon which is frequented by trophy wives and corporate wives. By the time I’m done, my nerves will be frazzled, because these 20-something women (including my stylist) greet each other with ear-splitting screeches.
“Hiiyeeeeeeeeeeee! How’re ya dooooooiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing?!?”
“Tiiiiiifffffannyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! Lookin’ goooooooooooood, girl!!!”
Where’re my earplugs?
::tapping betenoir on the shoulder::
MARCO!!
Heh, heh. You need this guy’s help.
Start reading from the first, onward. There have been times I wanted to hire him.
I was watching Dr. Phil the other day (don’t ask, I was waiting for The Simpsons to come on, OK? 
) and was appalled to hear him say that a couple should kick out their freeloading adult child because < the young kids they have deserve to be the center of attention and have a wonderful experience growing up in an environment that is all about them.> I thought Dr. Phil was more reasonable than that. I’m all for kids having a positive experience and growing up well-adjusted, but not as the friggin center of the universe. It’s some-parent’s job to move the kids on to some other activity when they think they may be causing someone else anguish.
Just out of curiosity, what song?
When I was 15 I became obsessed with a song, I can’t remember what it was now, [sub]Love Shack[/sub] and played it over and over and over again. For about three months. Nothing else.
Three months.
I’m surprised I’m here to tell the tale. Right now I feel like strangling myself. My poor parents. Still, they took it in their stride, and it’s become quite a family joke. If it comes on when we’re at a family wedding or party, they will drag my arse on to the dance floor and force me to dance with them to it. I suppose I deserve it.
“Just close your eyes and try and touch someone” - description of how to play Marco Polo by some idiot at the resort in Cuba last month.
Luckily, we live on the road side of our apartment building, and kids tend to play out back and we don’t hear them much. What we do have to deal with, though, is the university students on the ground floor that like to talk outside at all hours of the night. Drunkely. Loudly. Annoyingly. One couple fights a lot. We had a good 20 minutes once of the girl screeching “You LIED to me! You LIED to me!” while the guy answered or ignored her relatively quietly. “You LIED to me!”
I should go get that busted AC unit in the other thread and drop it on their heads next time…!
When I was a kid, we were encouraged to “go outside and play.” For you young’uns, that means running around and acting wild somewhere other than in the house. The yard, down the street, IN the street, a vacant lot, the nearby forest/lake/whatever.
I think maybe our parents don’t recall the creaming because we were too far away for them to hear it!
My two boys do the whiny bickering thing (ages 4 and 6). I have said some truly ridiculous shit when I reach the end of my rope. Gems like “No one in this family is ever touching anyone again!” or “I swear I’m giving away every one of those stuffed animals to the homeless if you can’t share!” or the classic “Don’t make me come in there!”
My mom finds this whole thing a constant source of laughter and joy.
Or perhaps the screaming… grrrrrrrrrrr.
Sadly not. I don’t move to Manchester until next month. But then I’ll be free! No more listening to her shreaking, laughing, crying, having sex or music. 
From Paris to Berlin. Twitch
Nope, not me. I would get smacked by parents and/or older brothers for screaming or screeching about anything other than impending bodily damage. And in my brother’s case, they’d smack me for any screaching/shrieking that didn’t involve actual bodily damage. Not something that was tolerated at all.
I just spent the morning at a swimming pool with 3 other moms, for a total of about 15 kids. And you know what? There was no screaming! Also, no Marco Polo. It was very pleasant. (And I’m all thrilled and proud because my two girls, both a bit leery of water, made great progress. Woo!)
Then my 3-yo threw a tantrum when we got home because she wanted to go back to the pool. Oh well. :rolleyes: She really needed a nap.
There used to be a little girl who lived across the street from me, name of Ehlana. She actually wasn’t so bad. It was her idiot, loud-mouthed bellowing dad that bugged me. I’ll always remember being awakened one early Saturday morning by:
“Ehlana! Come inside right now! Ehlana! Don’t touch the car, Ehlana! Ehlana, you close that car door and come here right now! Don’t get in the car, Ehlana! Don’t… Ehlana, don’t you close that door! Okay, Ehlana, open that door right now and get back here! Ehlana, are you listening to me? Ehlana… unlock this door, Ehlana! Unlock it RIGHT NOW!”
This went on for either ten minutes real time, or eight hours subjective time.