Our neighbor, Soren

Soren is our neighbor.  If you just thought, "Soren Kierkegaard!" yea!  I'm not alone.  I've never met anyone named Soren before.  I've actually only talked to him once, even though I've been married and lived here for almost six months.  We don't see a lot of him, and I frequently think that he must be irritated by hearing my oft-repeated Owl City songs through the thin walls.  Hopefully he has headphones.

Anyway, our little house is rather small and shares a wall with Soren's.  His house is the mirror image of ours, so our two bathrooms have a common wall.

Tonight I was washing my face in our bathroom, I could hear Soren doing something in his bathroom (try not to think about it), and Amos was in the kitchen.  In the process of getting the Crock-Pot down from its perch on top of the fridge, Amos knocked over the cereal container, making a lot of noise that he thought I could hear.  I didn't hear anything, though, until he yelled, "Don't worry, I'm oh-kay!!"

Without thinking of our neighbor, I raised my head, facing the shared wall, and yelled back, "What are you doing in there?!"

I'm guessing that Soren either thought,
"Should I respond?  What is she talking about??"
or
"Weirdo.  I gotta move."