"Hey! Kid! Get off of my lawn!"
Okay, so it was more of an, "Excuse me! You've got the entire park to play in! Would you please stop playing ball in my front lawn?"
It was a holiday - Father's Day - and so of COURSE my elderly neighbors were throwing a party. And the problem is not them. Well, a lot of the time it IS them, but during their beer blowout parties the problem is their grandkids, who are now in their tweens and teens and evidently inherited the "no boundaries" gene from their grandparents. The parents and grandparents, who are busy getting their drink on and don't want to have to mind the kids, send the kids to the park next to my house. Instead of walking down the road to the park, they cut through my yard. The front yard, the back yard - makes no difference to them. ALL DAMN DAY Sunday, I had herds of yelling, screaming, shrieking, shoving kids and teenagers running through my yard.
The older grandkids were sneaking beers from the party and sucking them down in the park, just over the brush line from my property. One herd of younger grandkids was playing paddleball in my neighbors' front yard, with the ball bouncing into MY front yard every thirty seconds or so, followed by a pack of shoving boys trying to get to the ball. Another herd of younger ones were playing frisbie tag in the park, next to my yard, shrieking and screaming so loudly you'd have thought they were being killed.
And they almost were, I'll tell you that right now.
You know why I never had kids? BECAUSE I DON'T LIKE KIDS. And having a couple of dozen of them tearing through my yard, yelling and screaming, was making me insane.
Finally, finally, I'd had it. I looked out my living room window to see that two of the secret drinkers were wobbily tossing a ball back and forth, in MY front yard. When one of them tromped through my front garden to go after an errant ball, I snapped. And yelled. And the kid apologized, and stumbled back in to the park. Bastid.
I think I'm gonna invest in some fencing. Electrified fencing.
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8 comments:
Luckily, most of the kids in my neighborhood are in their early 20s and have moved out. Next, of course, comes the onslaught of grandchildren.
My catty-corner back neighbor has an enormous pool and 3,000 relatives. They are very pleasant people, but I have been driven away on some Saturdays and Sundays. They stop the music precisely at 11 pm, but it's the party that happens before then that drives me crazy. One year for the girl's birthday, they had a live band (with microphones and amplifiers) and every now and then, I would hear a woman scream, "COMO SE LLAMA? COMO SE LLAMA?"
Oy. Those days are over now.
I'm guessing that a "BEWARE OF KITTENS" sign planted in the front yard would have little effect....but may be worth a try.
Ginny F.
My dad planted barberry bushes along our property line. Sharp thornes kept the neighbor kids way!
You're my hero ... uh, heroine. Good job kid.
It's not so much that they're on my property - although that's part of it - it's the noise that drives me crazy. It's the constant NOISE that makes me want to go all sniper in the clock tower.
and oh my God, Becs, now I've got "como se llama? como se llama?" running through my head. I'd never even heard that phrase before your comment and I had to google it to find out what it meant, but now I kinda want to put it on a t-shirt. "COMO SE LLAMA, B*TCH!"
After the yucky neighbors moved in I became that person. My car is not your backboard, my head is not your dartboard, I am not sitting your rabbit, and finally the entire neighborhood gave up and just started calling the police. They seem calmer since I returned home, I think they are in juvie.
fmcetc., let's hear it for juvie!
I forgot to mention that a couple of hours before the party, the neighbor lady came over with a giant-ass sheet cake and wanted to store it in my fridge. "I just figured that since you live alone, you probably have plenty of room in there!", she said. Yeah, like single people don't EAT. And no, I did not have the room in my fridge to fit in her gigantic cake. Christ.
She DID invite me to the party, which was totally unnecessary, since her goddamn grandkids brought the party over to my place.
What's the next holiday? Fourth of July? Yeah, I predict fireworks.
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