I just knew those workouts I was ‘supposed’ to be doing 3x a week were going to come back to bite me in the butt.
I was happily reading my news feeds when I heard a knock at the door. “God, what now?” I thought. I open the door and its my neighbor from upstairs telling me that another kid was out here trying to push Tre off his bike and then pulling his pants down. Jonathan got pissed (and rightfully so I might add) and took this kid on and started fighting with him to protect his brother.
By the time I got outside, the ‘other boy’ had taken off to the playground. So I walked over there to talk to him. The Girls (there are three of them that hang together and I swear they have no mothers because they are all over the place, back and forth across the street, going to the store on their own and buying stuff, out after dark…) said that they hadn’t seen the ‘other boy’ and then took off running around the side of the building. I went the other way and saw the culprit take off to the basketball court. I followed through one of the back doors and the little shit had jumped the fence and took off across the parkway to the shopping center across the street. I yelled, “That’s okay. Run! You got to come home sometime!”
I then proceeded to go to his house to inform his parents of his actions. I mean, crap, all I wanted to do was ask him why he was picking on little kids. My two are no angels by a long shot, and I wanted to talk to him and get his side of the story before I involved any other parents, but he left me no choice after running from me.
His parents aren’t home. Figures. His big brother answered the door and I told him who I was and what happened and where we lived and asked him to have his mom or dad contact me when they got home.
Got out in front of the building and the neighborhood kids had caught the ‘other boy’ and were literally holding him hostage. The rental office manager is standing on the corner wondering WTF is going on. By the time I got caught up to them, the boy had taken off across the street again with my two in hot pursuit. I yelled for them to stop and come back (can you imagine me trying to explain to TMT that the boys got hit by a car because they were chasing another kid across the street? I think not.)
So I tell our ROM what happened and while I am doing this, the boy is hiding across the street behind the stone entrance to the shopping center, and my son flags down a sheriff and tells him what happened.
Talk about wanting to just crawl in a hole. I mean, do they not think that mom can handle this on her own without involving the police? Apparently not!
Just then, the boy’s mother comes walking down the sidewalk and the ROM tells her that her son is across the street being talked to by the police…again…and she sighs and picks up the pace.
She and the officer and her son have words and they come back across the street. I introduce myself and tell her what happened and that I had wanted to just let her and her husband handle it but the kids got the police involved and I was sorry about that. We talked and lamented on our kids not making good choices and that was that.
My two are still out for blood though. They are, after all, their father’s sons. I’m going to have to watch them like a hawk from now on when they are outside.
Just one more reason to add to the “Why I Hate Kids” category.
Friggin little crumb snatchers…