my neighbors are a young couple, in their 30s, with two kids - Henry, still under warranty, and Maddie, new.

they've lived across the street from us for four years now, keeping up with Ralph, the Gardener of Eden next door to them, making all the rest of us look pretty lame in the turf maintenance dept.

they're a good Catholic couple, one dark, one fair. very friendly, very nice, good neighbors.

they've had exactly two fights on their front lawn in the time that we've known them. one of them right after Henry was born, when he was Maddie's age, one of them earlier today.

in that first fight, she held Little Henry in her arms as she screamed at him from their open front door. he yelled profanities from behind the lawnmower in the center of the lawn. Ralph sat quietly on his front stoop. mr. zippy and I supervised the construction of our front stone bedding wall, pretending we couldn't hear them screaming at the tops of their lungs directly across the street from us.

at the end of the day we came inside and promised each other we'd never fight like that. we were thankful for each other, and glad to keep our private frustrations to ourselves.

today, mr. zippy came to me and said "They're fighting on the lawn again" as though it happens every weekend.

"What are they saying?"

"I can't tell, but he's cussing and she just got in the car and left."

"Jesus."

then mr. zippy left. when he returned several minutes later he said, "He put a note on the door and went inside."

"he did?"

"she left in the car and he put a note on the door for her."

I couldn't help but wonder if this time she wasn't holding Little Maddie in her arms as she screamed at him before driving away.

what I really wanted to know was what was written on that note. later I wondered if he left it there for her to find upon her return or if he chickened out (or is it wisened up?) and removed it before she could see it.

I wondered if they'll have their next fight on the lawn when their next child is a swaddled babe.

I wondered if they'll be able to keep from fighting in front of Henry, and then Maddie, as they get older, and whether or not it will make a difference, as their children will be smarter than they ever imagined and they'll be repressing memories years before their parents think they're picking up on things.

"I'm really very glad we don't fight like that," I said.

"Me too," he said and hugged me into a profound embrace.