Written using the freewrite writing prompt from 
...
"What does the old snob want now?" I asked as Jen walked through the door.
Hicks had called over to us as we pulled up the drive in our beat-up old car (something he had complained "brought the tone of the neighbourhood down" when we first moved in). I had gathered up the bags of shopping and me and the kids had escaped to the safety of the kitchen and the welcome chore of putting the groceries away.
Anything to avoid talking to that old fart.
"He was complaining about the kids bikes, again," Jen said. "Said our garden was a bit of a tip."
I rolled my eyes.
"He should mind his own business," I said, putting tins of beans in the cupboard.
"I think he's lonely," Jen said. "I think he just wants to make contact with other people."
"Well perhaps he should try to be less of an arsehole," I said.
"I've invited him around for dinner," Jen said.
I started and bumped my head on the cupboard door.
...