The other night I officially went into
grumpy-old-man-on-the-block mode, which in retrospect makes me feel
old. I didn’t quite do the fist-shaking
”
You darn kids stay off my lawn!
”
thing, but it was close.
The other night I officially went into grumpy-old-man-on-the-block mode, which in retrospect makes me feel old. I didn’t quite do the fist-shaking “You darn kids stay off my lawn!” thing, but it was close.
It had just gotten dark and I was barbecuing in the back yard, taking advantage of a warm night. My son was shooting baskets under the lights and I was placing the chicken on the grill when I heard what sounded like a rock rolling down my roof and landing in the gutter. Then, another one quickly followed.
I heard kids laughing in the front yard so I went into full sprint along the side of my house and leapt onto the fence, trying to catch a glimpse of the culprits. My heart was racing and my blood was boiling as I sprinted around to the other side of the house so I could go through the gate and catch the little buggers. It was like I was in an action film.
I had a good idea who it was, since kids tend to hang in packs in my neighborhood. I looked down the street and I saw the group scampering around the corner, yelling at each other to hurry up. At this point, it was more of a personal challenge to catch them so I could let them know that I know who they are and what they did.
I wasn’t looking for revenge or police involvement. They just needed a stern talking-to.
Luckily, the sisters of a couple of the boys were in the area when I came panting out of the back yard. When I told them what happened, they ratted on their brothers – which I appreciated. I think they knew the boys had a scolding coming and they were willing to give them up.
I live in the same house, and therefore the same neighborhood, in which I grew up – though the fields and orchards that used to be my playground are now houses. I did many of the same things that these kids do, like ding-dong-ditching and playing ball in the street.
I’m sure I irritated my neighbors from time to time back then, like when our hide-and-seek games would spill into their yards or when we were yelling in the front yard. I never understood why a seemingly nice neighbor would become mean when we were just kids messing around.
Then, the tables got turned and I became that formerly nice neighbor.
Back to the chase, I drove my car around the block and parked at the house where I guessed the kids were hiding. I saw a light on and had hoped that a parent would be home, so I could talk with them and let them handle the situation.
But no one answered the door, so I headed back to the truck to head home defeated. Suddenly, one of the little culprits emerged from his backyard. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t see me until it was too late.
I sprang from my truck, which I hadn’t started yet, and ran to the gate as the kids scattered. That used to be me, I thought. Now I’m the mean old guy looking to yell at someone.
In my best parental voice, I ordered to them: “Stop and get over here right now. I see you and you have nowhere to hide.”
A couple of the kids immediately came up to me and looked apologetic. The ones hiding knew they were caught and they slowly joined their friends.
I reminded them that I, too, was once a kid in this very neighborhood and I liked to have fun just like they do. I told them I even used to ding-dong ditch around here. But I said it is wrong to throw rocks into someone’s yard because someone could get hurt and that the next time it happened I would deal with their parents and their parents would deal with them.
“I won’t involve your parents this time,” I told them, and they seemed relieved. I reminded them that I know each and every one of their parents and I wouldn’t hesitate to visit them if we had another problem. I didn’t ask for an apology, but a couple of them offered one. Mission accomplished, I hope.
It was a bit empowering to be the grumpy old man in the neighborhood, but I would much rather be the nice guy. Someday, they’ll have a home of their own and some kids will ding-dong ditch them or throw something in their back yard and karma will be their ultimate judge.
Such is life in the neighborhood.
