Shiftless Youth

Lately, the alley near our house has become a popular hang-out for an octet of shiftless charter-school kids to take a noisy off-campus lunch. Aside from their litter, it would be more tolerable if they weren’t so loud and crude. Unfortunately, the fence they like to congregate at seems to reflect their conversations our way. 

Luckily, we’re not adjacent to the alley, so it’s not so intrusive (or late-night) than it was at our old rental near the fairgrounds—still, one can resort to pretending one is narrating an episode of Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom only so many times.

While I do have some fantasies about high altitude ballistic water balloons, perhaps purchasing a few more loud wind chimes is in order as an antidote to their scintillating congress. I believe I’m obligated to come out in slippers and a plaid bathrobe and shout, “Hey, you kids…!”

I much prefer the Lycanthropic Tea-Time Ritual Children. Even if they do interrupt my afternoon writing, they have a more elevated (if shrieked) vocabulary.