So yesterday evening I finally met the mystery pear man. Or at least my parents did while I watched from a distance before going upstairs to get a shower. Now you may be asking yourself who or what is a mystery pear man? That was certainly the question on myself and the rest of my family’s minds when we found a bunch of pears placed on the table of our outdoor porch without a basket or note. My mom freaked out, thinking it was punk teenagers or a serial killer (she’s not a fan of even the idea of people being on our property when we’re not- she grew up in the ghetto basically so you can’t really blame her)
But we found our answer today as I noticed a guy walking his dog through our backyard with a bunch of pears in his hands. It was an odd spectacle to be sure, but once I saw the pears I pieced it together.
So it turns out he’s our harmless, middle-aged neighbor who came to welcome us to the neighborhood. I went upstairs to take that shower before figuring out the significance of the pears though.
But in the randomness that is my life let’s not lose sight of the true moral of the story, which is this: when you bring presents to your new neighbors, always leave a note.