Mean Old Man In Training

HEY YOU KIDS! GET OFF MY DRIVEWAY!

Oh, let it begin.

After three months of neighborly bliss in my no longer quiet cul-de-sac, the neighbors from hell may have moved in...

Trixie and I have enjoyed the peace that is having only one neighbor and now it's over.

When we moved in, one neighbor, our next door neighbor, Dolph, existed.

Dolph has four kids, but they're great kids. They play in their yard or in their driveway and are the kind of kids I hope to raise...polite, intelligent and mindful of adults.

About a month ago, Tolstoy and Keats moved in with their four kids. Decent kids. I do remember the day after they moved in, their little girl, who's maybe 10 stopped in front of my house, which at that time had no sod, and asked me if I had moved in yet...

This weekend Mark Twain and Jane Austen moved in directly across the street, with their four kids...who are un-fucking-controllable.

They ride their bikes in front of cars.

They ride their bikes on the neighbors lawns.

They ride their bikes on my lawn.

They play in other people's driveways.

I came out and saw them playing on MY driveway.

The parents? Oh, they're watching all of it.

That's right, I'm the Mean Old Man in training.

I realize families like the Cul-de-sac.

And, I don't hate kids.

I hate parents who assume that everyone loves their kids, so therefore their kids can run amock.

A kid is only as good as their parent has raised them.

And the next time I'm awakened on a hazy and hung over Saturday morning by one of their God damn kids next to my house or in my driveway, so help me God I will set up a barbeque, radio and beer tubs and invite two dozen of my friends over at 2:00 a.m. to imbibe in their front yard.