Please be careful because there is another side to this story.
I, with my three teenaged children have the misfortune to live next door to the most unpleasant couple it is possible to meet; a couple who themselves had teenagers many years ago. I have to put up with endless banging and scraping of wallpaper at all hours as they continue to improve their "castle." Over the years I have crept around my house for fear of upsetting this woman and her extremely weak husband. I have spent thousands of pounds putting in a dividing wall so that my piano (which has an additional soft pedal) is not on a party wall. I have had my car scratched and I have had my name and phone number scrawled over a pub wall with an invitation for whoever reads it to do whatever he likes to me because I am a "scouse slag." (This resulted in several phone calls which my child who was five years old at the time answered!)
What did I do wrong? I had the audacity to give birth to triplets!
But I also have rights. So do my children!
My children have the right to jump on their trampoline with their friends and they have the right to have the occasional teenage squabble, particularly if my daughter is slightly hormonal. My son has the right to practise his saxophone without having to go around to his grandma's every night. My other son has the right to play tennis against our side wall as long as he isn't doing it at 8 o'clock in the morning. My sons have the right to learn to play the piano; our piano has an additional soft pedal and both boys regularly receive distinctions in their exams. ( She is extremely privileged to be listening to them.)
My children also have the right to play in their garden without a disgusting man screaming at them over the six foot fence, shouting and using foul language. (They put up the fence because they couldn't stand the sight of my children when they were three years old.) My parents, who are in their seventies have the right to walk down our road without being accosted by this couple, again using foul language. For some reason they seem to be a bit wary of talking to me!
And finally, I have the right to bring into my house a twenty week old puppy, whom has been rescued from an appauling house on a sink estate, where every time she went out she was attacked by status dogs.
Yes, she might be so terrified of every sound she hears, that she barks several times before I can get to her, but she is attending dog training classes. And, I don't deserve to be screamed at over the fence, no more than my children do.
What will happen?
I will cowtow to the disgusting woman and her weak, foul mouthed husband. I'll ban the trampoline, make my kids play cricket and football in the nearest field and hope a paedophile doesn't get them, make my son play his saxophone at his grandparents', ban the piano after 8 o'clock and make the boys use the additional soft pedal (even if it ruins their touch and they only scrape a pass.) (( Sorry, can't do anything about the hormonal daughter!)) ((( She even gets on my nerves!)))
Why? Because I know they're probably keeping a diary to use against me when they go to the local authority.
But I'm keeping a diary too!
When you complain about your noisy neighbours, just have a little look at yourself first.
Have you forgotten what it was like to have children?
Have you forgotten what it was like to be a child?
P.S. Matthew wants an electric guitar for Christmas. I wonder what I'll do!
And do not expect your neighbour to train a rescued puppy to stop barking in three weeks!