Note From Neighbors Is More Annoying Than The Crying Baby They’re Complaining About

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An Australian mother was understandably annoyed when she received a handwritten letter from a neighbor who was complaining about her crying baby. The only thing more annoying than a crying baby is a person who thinks you can magically stop an infant from crying.

Patrycia LaForty, a 26-year-old Queensland mom, says she’s annoyed by the fact that the letter-writer didn’t have the guts to come to her door. She returned their passive-aggressive action with one of her own, posting to a popular Facebook group for parents in in the neighborhood hoping they would see it. Doubt it. I can’t imagine a parent doing this. Unless it was one of those smug jerks who lucked out with a baby who didn’t cry and thought it was because of their spectacular parenting.

I’m trying to think of a sound more annoying than the constant screeching of an unhappy baby. I can’t. Which is why I understand why people get annoyed by the sound — I really do. What I don’t understand, is how some people truly believe that infants come with an “off” button. I wish they did, that would be awesome. They don’t. Here’s the letter:


LaForty wrote as a response on the Facebook page:


I probably would have done some sleuthing and figured out they must me close enough to hear my baby’s cries – and just dropped this in all my neighbors’ mailboxes with a note to ignore it if they weren’t the one who hated my baby:

Dear Neighbor,

I totally can’t ignore my baby’s crying –  I wish I could. The ear plugs don’t work, nor does drowning her out with Metallica. If you think YOU’RE tired of listening to her crying non-stop, imagine how I feel. I have to feed her, clothe her and wipe her little jerk butt – all while she’s screaming bloody murder.

Please never contact me again unless you’re offering solutions – an apartment swap maybe? Mine comes with a screaming baby. A bottle of vodka might help — or maybe a kerchief to wipe the tears that are constantly streaming down my face as I contemplate the day I thought having children was a fine idea and flushed my birth control pills down the toilet and play it over and over and over again in my mind. If you knock on the door and I don’t answer, it’s because I’ve slipped in a coma whilst trying to zone out the screams by focusing on the extra flap of skin that remains on my abdomen after my emergency c-section.

P.S. The way you write your y’s and g’s is ridiculous. Are you 12? If you are 12 – fuck off, kid. If you’re not – please start writing like a proper adult, immediately.

(photo: Facebook)