I was about three months late in welcoming our new neighbors. My belated “welcome” cookie delivery ended up being Pepperidge Farms instead of homemade. In return, they brought us HOMEMADE decorated cookies. I would have invited them in for conversation but my social awkwardness was exponentially magnified by the piles of work stacked all over the living room, a kitchen full of dishes and unpacked groceries, a wiggly whiny welcoming dog with bladder issues, and the sudden realization that I hadn’t showered the whole day because I’d been gloriously home alone. Between the purchased cookies and my poor social skills, I’m certain I’ve convinced them I’m not June Cleaver.