Friday, October 03, 2008

I'm A 29 Year-Old Tattletale

So yeah, I'll go ahead and admit it. I'm a tattletale.

But they started it. So there.

As I have mentioned before, Razorback Fan has abandoned us and moved closer to his work. The only problem is that his house is still for sale...still sitting empty. He comes back every now and then to, well, I'm not sure what he does. I mean, I would hope he's got most of his junk out after over a year.

Anyway, Razorback Fan pays the neighbor kid to mow his yard. And for lack of a better name, I call him "Fro Boy". He's probably 13, is about 5'8", and is skinny as a rail. He wears clothes way too big for him and has a head of thick, curly brown hair. With a bit of teasing, he'd have a killer fro.

Fro Boy and his friends have been hanging out over at Razorback Fan's vacant, unattended house after school. Fro Boy, the kid across the street, and two girls have been spending their time in the driveway, front yard, and front porch.

Clearly not a good idea.

Especially since they've knocked over landscape lighting, hung their hoodies on the outside garage lights and twisted them (which looks really nice, by the way), and left all sorts of trash over there. Not to mention the ink pens they destroyed and then slung the ink all over the driveway.


Since my efforts to tell Fro Boy and his friend they had no business hanging out at Razorback Fan's house earlier in the summer obviously had a lasting impression (I caught him climbing on the roof), I did the next best thing.

I called the Real Estate Agent who has the house listed.

Yeah, I tattled. The agent was quite disturbed that was going on, and promised to call Razorback Fan and take care of the issue. That was last Thursday. We didn't see the kids again for a few days and thought all was taken care of.

We were wrong.

Tuesday, they were back. And in full force. Their number was growing, having added a token fat kid. Husband's passive aggressive attempt at getting them to leave by mowing the yard (twice) and blowing grass on them didn't work.

So I kicked it up a notch. I called the cops.

That's right. Don't push me, my friends. I am not shy about calling the cops, as proven by how many times I had to call them on NESN.

My only fear was that Fro Boy and his little gang would disperse on their own before the local police were able to come and run them off. Oh, but that fear was unfounded.

Husband was still outside cleaning up his massive amount of grass clippings (that's what happens when you mow the yard twice) when an officer drove up. He ran the kids off, hopefully for good.

Husband's afraid that the cop tattled on us, and fears retribution. I don't think he did - surely he wouldn't do that.

And even if he did, I don't care. Bring it on. If those kids think they will get the best of me, they are sadly mistaken.

Because I'll take it even farther next time and talk to their Momma. Pin It

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