So I finally and formally met my new neighbor last night, after more than 3 months worth of doing the customary head nodding, can't say hello, but want to acknowledge that you're there thing. In a weird, odd sort of way, I will kind of miss the cat and mouse, now you see me, now you don't, who can make it into their respective home before the other, game of tag we've been playing. He of course, had no idea he was participating, which only goes to show you how well of a player I really am. (Rob from Survivor is a puppy next to me.)

So there he was knocking on my door last night, in what I was sure was about to be his pledge of ultimate devotion. (Or extreme wishful thinking, on my part.) "Woo .. calm down girl." I said to myself, doing a quick check of my hair, in the mirror beside the front door. Tucking a stray wisp behind my ear, I decided to go for the sultry country girl look, that has inspired many a man to be committed and waited, baited breath and all, for him to wet my ears with words of love ... In my heart, I knew that he too had felt it too, from the moment our eyes met across the dark, glistening asphalt of our mutually shared driveway, that he was mine.

But in a brief moment of fear, (for the thought of my rejection had his insides in turmoil) he pushed his young daughter in front of my door and said, in a deep husky voice, "She's a little shy but she was hoping that your daughter might be able to come outside and play for a little while." As if I could say no, with all the pre-wedding arrangements running through my head. (Multi-tasking is not for me.)

So of course, I said yes, in that strange awkward moment when you go from being complete and total strangers, to people who converse and know each other by first name. It was in the same moment when we both spoke, offering each other introductions ... "I'm Stacey.", I said, taking his hand in mine, in what was a firm but very pleasing shake, not too soft, not too hard and thank goodness no clammy hands. Smiling and (still) shaking, he looked me straight in the eyes and said ...

"I'm Mike." (Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!)

Now think back to any movie you've ever seen, where the heroine, finds love, only to watch it slip right through her perfectly manicured hands. OK ... this was nothing like that. This was action in slow motion, as I tried to supress the "any name but that" expression from my face, wondering as I did, how it was possible that out of the millions of names he could have owned, why that particular one had to be his!

The one and only name that to me, is the equivalent of a natural disaster, whenever it comes into contact with my personal life. "Just say no and walk away.", I told myself, resisting the urge to slam the door in his face. "It's not his fault his mother named him Mike ... How could she have known?" Oh, it was a bitter turn of events.

Playing it cool, because I own the "Three C's" (Calm, cool and collected) rule of communicating with members of the opposite sex, I kept my emotions in check, as I explained the rules of outdoor play to him. "I don't let KC play in the driveway, or in the front yard ... Backyard is it, and she's not allowed on the side of the house where I can't see her. The way back is off limits too, just so you know there's a creek back there, it's not big, but this time of year it's swelled up from the spring rain and there's no telling how deep or fast moving it is. Beyond that, they've got more than enough space to run, jump and carry on like your typical seven year old."

I paused for a moment, willing air to draw into my lungs. Just when I thought I was going to have to think of something more to say, the phone rang ... "Excuse me for a moment.", I heard myself say, as I clicked the phone on. "Hello ... Can you hold one second please?"

"I'm sorry ... I need to take this call.", I said, turning to him, an apologetic look on my face. "It was really nice to finally meet you ..." Whew ... relief, I thought, sinking back against the door as I closed it, recalling the the phone still in my hands.

"Hello?" (Pause) "Nope, I'm sorry ... You must have the wrong number."