On Getting Those Damn Kids Off My Lawn!

I have to start by saying that I don't think I will ever run out of things to write about as my neighborhood seems to continually provide me with more material.

Wednesday nights at the LeMaire house are gaming nights and this past Wednesday was no exception. We had a full house that evening with my sister and her husband, a friend from work and his girlfriend, and the person that I would consider my best friend (well, the one I do not have sex with). The driveways were full of cars and we were all gathered around the table playing/socializing (sometimes it is hard to differentiate) and having a good time. We had been playing for about an hour when there was a knock on the door, and on my porch was one of the neighborhood rapscallions.
"Can we use your basketball hoop?" he asked me, in a sweet innocent cherubic voice. I responded with a "Yeah, sure." We have a cheap basketball hoop that has a base full of water for weight and wheels on the front so you can easily move it around. I have it set up on the paved driveway and tucked to the side so we can still park. I have let the kids use it in the past, though they don't do it often, less so now that I keep the ball in on the porch. Two balls have disappeared and as W used to say, "Fool me once shame on me, no, wait, fool me twice shame on.... err, never mind." He looked at me and said "Can you help me move it?" It suddenly dawned on me that my sister's car was parked in front of the hoop and they would not be able to use the basketball hoop without damaging her vehicle. I said to the little scamp, "I'm sorry, I can't. You will just have to find something else to do." He said "Okay," and left. I went back to the game.

It cracked me up that he would ask me to help move it, especially when there were people at the house. I wasn't that upset; kids are generally pretty clueless about stuff like this. I think it goes back to that belief most kids have, that they are the centers of the universe. Most children do not seem to have the capacity to take into account other peoples' feelings or concerns. They are focused only on their wants and needs. I am not going to say that this is wrong, or that most children even have control over this, but to coin the phrase, it is what it is. I am not a child behavioral specialist and will never claim to be one (in life or on TV).


I have had some dealings with the neighborhood kids before. One time this girl knocked on my door and asked if I would come out and use my ladder to get a toy off of somebody's roof. When I said no, she asked if they could borrow the ladder. She gave me such a dirty look and huffed away when I said no. I almost laughed out loud. This kid was absolutely clueless. Did she really expect me to let a band of kids all under the age of twelve run around the neighborhood with a ten foot ladder? (Well maybe I would have let them if I could follow them around with a video camera.)

The kids on my block seem not to be aware of yard boundaries or the meaning of private property. I will be in the kitchen and see kids running through our back yard, even though there is a fence on one side. In fact, there always seems to be kids running around our house and through our yard. One day my wife noticed there were kids hiding behind our cars. Apparently they were playing hide and seek and our yard was in-bounds. We are also constantly confronted with kid droppings. Well, what I mean by this is that there are always toys lying on our side of the fence, which I end up tossing back over when I am leaving for work in the morning. Also there are wrappers and bottles and other garbage that ends up in our yard. My wife and I do not eat a lot of freezer pops or drink from those cheap juice boxes that have the tin foil lids. We even found some garbage stuffed in our mailbox one day. While I am mentioning mailboxes, for some reason, someone keeps leaving the door open to our mailbox, which I find increasingly annoying. These kids are getting me to the point where I just want to yell, "Hey you kids, get the hell out of my yard!" I am turning into the old curmudgeon on the block.

I grew up in a house in the woods with no immediate neighbors, and have not really lived in "the city" (well, it is a city considering my hometown of origin had more cows than people) and have to ask, is this normal child behavior? If I grew up in a more highly populated area, would I have acted the same way? Would I have felt that it would be all right to go wherever I wanted, no matters whose property it was? I even had to start locking my garage because I let the kid next door play ping pong with me and my kids once, and next thing I knew, he was letting himself and his friends in whenever he wanted. Well, until all of the balls disappeared, then they stopped going in. What would have happened if I had an endless supply of ping pong balls like Captain Kangaroo?

I guess all I am saying is that I believe wholeheartedly that my parents would have kicked my ass if I did anything like that. I would have been required to ask the owners of the house if it was okay to use their stuff or to cut across their property. I am not saying I would have been required to ask permission to walk through someone's yard, but if I was going to play games in their yard or use their stuff, I would have been required to knock on the door and ask. It is called being respectful, and is something my parents drilled into me at an early age. I was taught not to ask for things and if offered something like cookies or a delicious beverage, I should either politely refuse or just take one. I'm not saying I was perfect, or that I expect this sort of behavior from all kids, but at least a little effort would be appreciated.

To be honest with myself, I probably did a lot of the same things these kids do but I think the older you get the more delusional you get about your childhood. Times were better, all children listened to their parents, they respected their elders, worked harder and were more responsible. We live in a completely different age and things have changed a lot over the years, but I think kids stay pretty much the same. I think it is us parents that have changed. I know I am having a lot of issues with my kids, especially since I only see them two weekends a month, and I see them doing a lot of things that I am complaining about the neighborhood kids doing.

This is my fault (well, to be fair, let's not leave my ex out of this). I have not even come close to teaching them what my parents taught me. I am working on it, and they are coming around slowly, but it is hard. Society seems to reinforce that kids are entitled to everything which doesn't make it any easier. (It may be a broad generalization, but this is just my feeling and not supported by any facts that I know of.)

I think it would help if I knew the neighborhood kids' parents, but I have been here about two years and have only talked to my one neighbor (the one whose child runs amuck) about twice. I don't even know their names. Maybe if I explained what their child was doing that I objected to, they would talk to their child and try to improve his behavior. Or, they may just tell me to go f___ myself.

I guess I will try to accept that these children are just being children and that I would have done the same kind of things when I was younger (well, some of the things), and try to only concern myself when they really get out of line. Maybe I will try to get to know their parents better and maybe bring up some of my concerns subtly when I do. But until then I will keep my eyes open, keep the garage locked and whenever they are doing something that I consider "crossing the line," I will get my wife to go out and yell at them. Hey, I don't want to be the old cranky guy that yells at the neighborhood kids!

On Hon, Honey and Sweetie

The other day I was driving through the drive thru at a popular coffee place, I don't want to give free advertising so we will just say that it was called Splunkin Splonuts. I ordered, or maybe my wife ordered by speaking over me, as I am a big coward sometimes. I would rather her place the order than try and "telephone game" her order to the faceless box. I always screw it up, no matter how simple and then end up stammering and stuttering and feeling very foolish. But anyway, no matter how it was done coffee was successfully ordered. We drove around and the debit card was handed to the young woman manning (or womaning) the window. I have to admit, that I do like to have my wife order over me. It is a little payback for all the times that the voice over the box has been a guy's and then I drove around to the pick up window and there was a woman there. Or vice versa. Or the times that the voice changes gender in mid-order. Does it really take two people to place an order? And every time I make the same stupid joke about puberty hitting.

But now I am veering off topic, lets get back on track, where was I, yes... The debit card was given, and that is another thing I hate. I feel like an idiot putting a $2 dollar charge on my debit card. To think of all the technology involved, satellite signals, data streaming, electronic devices linking up, account information verifications, for an item I could probably pay for if I looked under the seats of the car and gathered all the change. But then again, would there be any change? I never carry cash anymore. Everything goes on the debit card, from bills, to groceries. They could probably change all the color of our money to neon green and it would be months before I even noticed.

The people I feel who must have taken the greatest hit from this new technology are those organizations who collect money at bucket drops. I feel kind of sad for those people standing in the middle of the road with their organization's sign and a bucket, begging for your change. But now, we as a society, have little change. How much revenue has been lost by little leagues, EMTs, softball teams, fire stations, cheerleaders, etc. And I also feel like a big jerk driving by with my window closed, pretending like they are not there. It is even worse when you have to stop at a light and they are right there, staring at you, judging you. And you stare forward, trying to will the light to change. All because they don't accept VISA.

But anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yes, debit card was given, money deducted from my account and card returned. Then, delicious coffee was handed through the window. Now, I don't drink coffee. I love the smell of coffee, I enjoy coffee ice cream, but I refuse to drink the stuff. I believe it stems from the fact that my parents always told me that coffee was a beverage that was reserved for adults. (Well, they didn't phrase it like that, it was probably more like me saying "Can I have some coffee?" and them saying "No, it's for grown ups.") I think that has stuck with me all these years. If I start drinking coffee I am going to have to admit I'm a grown up. I am 41 now and it is too late to start acting like a grown up. Maybe next year!

But anyway, back to the original story... As the girl handed me the coffee, she said "Here you go hon." I said "Thank you," passed the coffee to my wife and drove away. Then my wife had to listen to me go on for the next half hour about one of my many irrational pet peeves. The girl called me hon. Now I don't mind when a convenient store clerk, a waitress, a fast food worker, basically anyone in the service or retail industry calls me hon, or honey or sweetie or any other little terms of endearment. I only have one condition that they have to meet to make it acceptable. They have to be older than me!

Like I said it is irrational but it drives me crazy with a capital K when some girl (for some reason guys never call me hon) who looks like she is 18 years old starts whipping around the hons. I just want to look at them and say "Gramma, is that you?" Don't call me hon. I will call my wife hon and she can call me hon. I guess that would be the only person younger than me that I will take that kind of language from. Call me sir. I'll take a sir. I'd appreciate a sir. It may sound a bit snooty but dammit I'm old enough to be your father. Call me daddy! Ok, that just got weird. Don't call me daddy. How about Mister? Mister would work too. If you use an English accent I could call you Tiny Tim or Oliver Twist. What in God's name am I talking about? I guess all I am trying to say is that hon, honey and sweetie should be reserved for those who have earned the right to use it.

On a side note, as I was thinking about feeling guilty about not throwing change in the bucket it made me think about grocery shopping. I always feel like an ass when I am checking out and the register worker (the registereer?)  asks if I would like to donate a dollar to whatever cause they are collecting for and I say no. I can't even look them in the eye when I say it. I have actually gotten to the point where I make a little joke every time I say no. Basically I say "I always feel guilty when I say no." They try to make me feel better, though and say it is all right, but their eyes say, "You just bought four 2 liter bottles of my favorite carbonated caramel colored beverage, you can't swing a dollar to help find a cure for fill in the blank? You cheap bastard." Well, maybe I just need more lessons in reading eyes.