While I was going to school in San Diego I rented a room from a guy who works with my dad. I spent most of my time off and nights at my boyfriends apartment because I couldn't stand being in that house.
When his wife was home she constantly wanted someone to talk to and even told me all about her daughter's re-occurring bladder infection over breakfast.
Most weekends their grown daughters would visit with their kids. When they showed up I would grab my stuff and get out as soon as possible, even when I had nowhere to go. I guess I grew up in a quiet household because the amount of noise that these people made just seemed ungodly.
One of the kids, a boy about 6 years old, must have been possessed by a demon because that is the only explanation for the kind of noises he made. For the longest time I thought his 2 year old sister was the fussy one, but it turns out it was him who was always crying like a baby, seriously, not kid-crying with snot bubbles and choking out words, crying baby infant noises. Weird, just weird.
When no one was home the dog would howl the most lonely howls in the world. It was the most depressed dog I have ever met, ironically named Giggles. This dog looked like a tiny Luck Dragon from the Never-Ending Story and the lady would dress it in little dog clothes. My favorite was its cheer leading outfit. (I might have a picture somewhere (found it!)) She would leave the radio on all day so the dog wouldn't be lonely while she was at work, but it didn't matter, that dog knew what was up.
I moved out the same day that I finished school and I made a mental note to never live with strangers again.
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