When we were kids, we would hang out well after curfew talking, running, just being kids. But we did manage to keep the volume down, if only because our parents would have taped our mouths shut if we got out of line.
Which may partially explain why I've become the Old Bitch Woman Down The Street.
It's Friday night and the kids are asleep. Joe has to work in the morning so he went to bed a few hours ago. I'm sitting in my living room watching a movie and trying to ignore the screaming teenagers hanging out in the street in front of my house.
It's only 10:30.
I see my neighbor come out and know that she's asking them to keep it down.
I turn the volume on the tv up just a little bit more.
They continue screaming.
It's 11:00 and I'm contemplating whether or not it's worth it to go out and tell them to shut up.
That's when one of them decides it would be fun to run down our street yelling 'fuck' at full volume.
Fuck indeed. How about 'fuck this, now I'm pissed'?
I went outside but held my temper in check.
"Hey guys, it's 11. Can you please stop screaming?"
That's when one of those asshats lost their mind and came back with "My curfew isn't until 1."
Time-out for a moment before I tell you about the bloodshed that followed that idiotic statement.
1) He was (clearly) underage. Not for a minute do I believe that the curfew here for minors is 1 am. Maybe his parents don't care how late he is out, but the cops do.
2) He was not a neighborhood kid. In fact, only one kid out of the 14 that were outside actually lived here and she belonged to the people who think it's ok for their 15 year old daughter to dress like a hooker (half shirt with thin straps, mini-skirt, make-up by Tammy Fay?) so clearly, they weren't going to care that their daughter and her friends were annoying the piss out of their neighbors.
3) That poor fool apparently doesn't understand that when you mess with a tired hormonal pregnant woman you will lose a limb. Possibly one that you really need.
On to the bloodshed.... (ok, not literally but given the fact that they all left immediately after, rather quickly in fact, I think I may have scared them a little).
"I don't give a shit when your curfew is you half-wit! It's 11 at night, my kids are sleeping and if I have to hear another one of you little assholes yelling in front of my house we're going to have a problem! Now, your choice is to shut the hell up or shut the hell up. Which is going to be?"
"yes, ma'am. Sorry."
Yes, that's kind of what I thought.
Doesn't sound to bad, except I have a very loud voice and I spit acid.
Joe asked me why I didn't just call the cops.
Answer?
I'm scarier.
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2 comments:
LOL!! Good for you!
Love the 'spitting acid' trick.
I think that's the best part about being a Mom, everyone takes you for a goo-gooing, meek, squishy thing. So they're all the more surprised when it becomes painfully obvious that you have every intention of jacking their shit up after which you're fully capable of continuing to read "Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs" without missing a beat. :-)
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