My neighborhood is a small little nook of townhouses tucked into the side of a country club right off the main drag in my corner of the DC burbs. It’s too small to go for a walk unless you go back and forth a few times, so sometimes my wife and I walk in my parents’ neighborhood.

My parents aren’t home much because they spend most of their weekends out at their vacation house on the eastern shore of Maryland. Which means since they’re only 3 miles away, we can pop over to their house, park in the driveway, go for a walk, and crucially, don’t need to interact with my parents.

Usually we at least bring in their mail and I steal a few pretzel crisps out of the family size bag in the pantry while my wife rolls her eyes at me and occasionally joins in the snacking. My mom never runs out of pretzel crisps.

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These cars are sort of in my parents’ neighborhood. They’re actually in a different subdivision. My parents’ subdivision is pretty small but it’s connected to a couple other bigger ones by walking paths and all 3 share a good sized park. So when my wife and I go for a walk, most of it happens in one or both of the other subdivisions connected to my parents’ little bitty one.

In addition to the MR2 above, here’s a house that’s definitely not the Swedish embassy.

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Oh, and this Challenger was poking out from a carport.