Grandma and Grandpa leave town

So Lilia and I are going to LIVE. IT. UP. Whatever that means.
Today we will sit in the wading pool and eat cheerios (I'll have some tortilla chips and salsa) and watch the neighborhood folks go get the mail.
Which brings me to a troubling fact of life, that I can't seem to wrap my head around. Why is it, that when going to get the mail, people think it's totally appropriate to wear
A) Their Pyjamas
B) clothes that are too tight and too small!
I'm thinking that these people are in their homes, cleaning or pole dancing and then they think, OoOOO mail's here! So they walk down the street, passed my house to retrieve their Reader's Digest Winning envelopes. But they don't take into account that I have a young impressionable child, or I might have just finished lunch.
I'm then subjected to watching them tapdance down the street wearing sweatpants, or too-short t-shirts with big armpit stains, or worse, leather vests, sans undershirts.
Why do I have to see this? Is it because I live on the corner of this street in Strathmore? Or is it because Jesus wants me to practice tolerance and acceptance?