Little concrete boots upstairs...

Hello there.
My name is Hector and this is my first blog outside MSN. Just really trying to keep busy whilst looking for a job.
So in between job hunting, reading, listening to music and running I shall be updating the little goings in my life.

This little entry is mainly about the child that lives above us. There is a whole family over there, it's not a toddler living by himself in a flat, tending after himself.

The thing is that we live in a flat, on the ground floor. Though that is great because we don't bother anyone when we get home or by simply being at home. It is a pain in the arse the fact that you have people walking over your head at undesirable times; or in the case of the child above, at all times.

I understand that kids have loads of energy and it is difficult to wear them down. As well I notice this as I am sitting on my arse, in the flat, most of the time. So I am here all day to hear him run about. The funniest thing is that one day, I presume, his parents trying to calm him down must have put a pair of skies on the kid's feet. Or at least that's what it sounded like. The longest and flattest feet stamping I have heard in my life. Every time he set a foot on the floor, you could hear this long dry snap on contact.

I call him little concrete boots, obviously, because when he is not sporting snow gear, he has the heaviest feet I have heard a child posses. Not even my 17 stone brother when he was drunk getting off the bunk beds, desperately running to be sick, sounded so heavy. We used to joke about our dinosaur boots when we were pissed rushing to the toilet. But I have to say that in all honesty this kid takes the biscuit and the medal.

I really don't know what to think anymore. Then his parents let him run around until way past a three year old's bedtime. The weirdest thing is that I don't know whether if I prefer the kid or my previous neighbour. The previous guy in the flat once surprised us by hoovering from 2 to 3 in the morning on Boxing day. I don't know if he had OCD or if he simply was bored and though 'what the hell'. Probably the hoover had been a present and he thought on testing it there and then.

Anyway, his spirit lives on (no, he didn't die in that flat) as the kids parents love to move furniture through out the day and at random times. Sometimes I do wonder whether if the kid's mum has OCD and is repeatedly shifting stuff and cleaning it. Some other times I thing that their furniture is odd Tetris-like shaped and her and the dad just play tetris in their living room with their weird furniture.

I hope to get to the bottom of this and if the truth is nowhere near interesting, I shall make something up.

Thank you for listening (reading).