My Neighbors

I've always had strange neighbors. On one side, I now have a young family. I like them; they're quiet. Their little girl is sweet and respectful and all that. The whole family is terrified of my dogs. It may be a cultural thing, since they are black, but usually black folks LOVE my dogs and RAVE about how BEAUTIFUL they are. I have two chocolate labs, so draw your own conclusions on that one. All I know is that my labs are like 110 lbs and black folk love them (except my neighbor) and I used to own a 60 lbs dalmation, as white as snow, that black folks were consistantly terrified of.
Back to my neighbors. For some reason, the mother is the ambassador. I only see them when they need my help and she's always the one that comes over to get me. The first time, Zachary barked at her and the poor women almost fell backwards off my porch.
It went like this:

Neighbor: Do you have a screwdriver?
Me: Sure, what kind do you need?
Neighbor: I don't know?
Me: Well, what are you going to be using it for?
Neighbor: Our car is stuck in the mud in the front yard.
Me: How are you going to use a screwdriver to get a car unstuck?
Neighbor: I don't know.

After much headshaking confusion, I brought over some 1x12 boards and me and the husband pushed the car out.

Last night, the ambassador comes over. She's now about 12 months pregnant. She needs jumper cables. I get them and go over to her house. Her car is in the garage with the front end away from the door. The garage door is closed.

Me: Do you have a car coming here to jump your car with?
Neighbor: Blank stare.
Me: How about if you steer and I'll push the car out of the garage?
Neighbor: OK
Me: I will then bring my truck over and we will use it to jump your car
Neighbor: OK

We get her car jumped and I see the whole family again for the first time in months. They are all very thankful and apologetic.
I just hope they don't try to deliver the baby at home. I won't answer my door.