The Whistler

Seriously. There is an old man that lives three doors down, and the dude whistles all day, every day. And I always forgot about it until those great summer days roll along, when you can't help but open up every single window in the house.

So here I am, working away in the kitchen on my ailing laptop, daughter snugly tucked away for her nap, and I'm listening to this nonsensical whistler. There is no rhythm, no order; he's not whistling the "Star Wars" theme or anything else. He's. Just. Whistling. Nonstop. It NEVER stops.

Probably more than half of me is irritated, and the other less than half part is all "How neat! This guy is so freaking happy all day long, every day, just to be putzing around in his yard, so he spontaneiously whistles to let some of that joy out."

The irritated part of me wonders why this old coot doesn't ever take naps.