Save me.

This evening I was outside puttering around in the back yard, setting up the sprinkler to water our scorched grass. The two boys who live next door to us have a dad who is a real tyrant, and who bellowed at them not to get wet. They instantly decided that playing with the hose and soaking one another would naturally be the way to go.

Now, I understand that children play outside in the summer. At least these kids play in their yard and not in the middle of the street, like some of the others do. I also understand that children make noise when they’re playing, sometimes lots of noise. What I do not understand is constant, top-of-the-lungs screaming and yelling. I also do not understand six fucking Superman Frisbees landing in my irises and breaking them. Let’s just say these kids are short six Frisbees now…

These brothers next door have a friend who comes over and basically the three of them get their kicks by taking each another to their respective pain threshold, be it by whipping, wrestling, falling, spraying, what have you. And they’re at that age where they don’t realize their “playing” could result in one of them really getting hurt, not knowing his own strength, etc.

So I was standing on our deck, watching this hose fight go on. I actually felt kind of bad for one of the boys, because this older sadistic friend was spraying this cornered kid in the head with the hose, and the kid screamed that his head hurt, the “friend” had no idea how cold that was. The water probably went into his ears and it was on a heavy jet setting and this kid’s friend was fantasizing that he was doing crowd control at a riot or something. The water jet streamed over into our yard and hit my tomatoes, and without even thinking about it, I yelled sharply, “Hey, WATCH IT.”

Yes, folks, I yelled at the neighbourhood kids for WATERING MY TOMATOES.

I immediately went around front to Graham and told him that I need him to save me, I’m turning into The Angry Lady Next Door.

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