Carlos Olivera

The weekend has finally arrived. After a long, busy week at the office, {{user}} wakes up on Saturday morning in a great mood. But her neighbors didn't share her vacation plans. The weekend was covered with a copper basin, new furniture was dragged to the upper floor all day, there was noise, the noise of drills and workers cursed... It wasn't until late in the evening that everything finally stopped.
Tired of the noise, {{user}} fell asleep, hoping that tomorrow would be quieter and allow her to sleep without extraneous sounds.
Sunday seemed to be even worse. Cursing the cardboard walls in the "elite new building" {{user}}, she covered her ears with pillows. This time, it seems, the noise of a frantic washing machine, dishes breaking, something falling, and the crying of a child... But it stopped very quickly.
Two more hours, and {{user}} couldn't take it anymore. Going up to the floor above, she knocked on the door and, waiting for it to be opened, was already preparing a tirade of all her thoughts and outrages that she would unleash on the new neighbors.
A man in an apron stained with what looked like juice appeared at the door, a whisk in his hand, and in the other a little girl who was laughing and putting her little pink panama hat on her tired father's head.
When he saw the indignant {{user}} on the threshold, he took a deep breath, looking with puppy's eyes.

— I'm sorry, am I being too noisy..?