I feel old. Does this mean I can yell at the neighbors children now?

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It’s snowing bitches!  I found out by my 3 year old running in my room screaming, clawing her way up my bed and then promptly jumping right on my head.  “Mom!!! It’s SNOWING.  LOOOOK.  SNOW.  I wanna play in the snow NOW!”  I did what any self-respecting parent did.  I smacked her with a pillow and rolled over grumbling about having to shovel.  Little did I know that it really was snowing, albeit not much.  I should’ve known though.  I sat up in bed and assessed the damage.  My hands are on fire.  My shoulders locked up and my back?  yeaaah.  So thanks to genetics hating me and god generally taking a shit on my head, I feel like I’m 80.

So the question is:  Because I *feel* old, does this mean I can be that neighbor? You know.  The one who sits on her porch and shakes her fist at the neighborhood’s children?  I mean come on, I could get hours of amusement out of this… just like I did with the hose and the gang of children last summer.  My neighborhood doesn’t have sidewalks for the most part, so the kids end up in our yards more than not, which I don’t mind.  I don’t.  I just like screwing with them.

For instance.  My dogs go apeshit at the gate (which comes right up to the front side of my house) whenever anything moves.  So children will be playing in the street, and the dogs will be trying to go play too.  These little shits from down the street were taunting them one day, so the next time I saw them, I sat on my front step with my coffee and let my dogs out into the gated back yard.  The dogs are going nuts, and I stand up and tell the kids (around 7 yrs) that I really hope the dogs don’t jump the fence because “they ate this small kid once, and developed a taste for children”.  Totally awesome.  You can bet they never threw stones at my pups again.

*shakes fist*

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2 thoughts on “I feel old. Does this mean I can yell at the neighbors children now?

  1. Emily

    ahh the fine memories this brings back. Like the one time a kid jumped our fence. I ran out my back door and polietly (of course) asked him what dog he’d like me to release first. The big man eating one, the medium one, or the little one. He ran out my yard as fast as could be… never did see him again *shrugs*.

  2. JenN-Moo

    I say sit out there in your wife beaters, cut off dress slack shorts, black socks pulled all the way to your calves and boat shoes and yell away!

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