I currently live on the bottom floor of a rented two unit house. For the past two months, the upstairs unit has been blissfully vacant. About four weeks ago, the landlord started opening the upstairs unit on the weekends for people to stop by and look at it. Typically, when the landlord wasn't available, potential renters would knock on my door thinking I was the home owner renting the upstairs place.

I didn't mind this so much because it gave me the chance to meet my potential neighbors. And, graciously, the landlord said he would take my opinion into consideration when choosing the renter. So far, so good.

But last week, the landlord asked me if I had met anyone who I liked. And here the trouble begins. Because just the other day, a very nice single mother stopped by to look at the unit. She liked it and was interested in it. She said she would be living there with her son.....her teenage son.......her teenage son who is in a band.......her teenage son who plays drums for the band, her teenage son whom, she admitted, would be practicing every day.

Now I had a dilemma, because I am the kind of guy who will come to the aid of any single mother I come across. Or at least, I thought I was. But Drums? Drums in the upstairs unit? A unit who's floor is so thin I can already hear the hair growing of anyone up there.

And so the question remained. Did I want to let this single mother be my new neighbor?

I can tell you I was torn. Finally, I told the landlord, no. I just couldn’t do it. A quiet living space was more important to me than helping another single parent. Oh, the GUILT! Did I just play the role of the villain claiming there was NO ROOM AT THE INN?

What do you think? Am I kicked out of the single parent club now? Am I an ass for saying no? Are there limits to your single parent solidarity?

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